.MILITARISM 


fill///          I        /        /         f 

H  Contribution  to  tbe  peace   Crusafce 


BY 


GUGLIELMO    FERRERO 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON 

L.     C.    PAGE    &    COMPANY 

HLCQC9II1 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


OF 

:°^UFORN^ 


PREFACE 

THIS  translation  of  my  book,  "  II  Militarism,"  published  in 
Italy  a  year  ago,  is  really  almost  a  new  work,  because  the 
greater  part  of  the  Italian  text  has  been  entirely  recast,  and 
profoundly  modified,  and  whole  chapters  have  been  added. 
The  events  that  have  occurred  since  its  publication,  continued 
meditation  on  the  great  problems  of  which  it  treats,  some 
of  the  objections  raised  by  critics  during  the  animated  dis- 
cussions that  broke  out  in  Italy  on  its  appearance,  have 
induced  me  to  try  to  improve  my  work  by  making  these 
changes. 

I  have  written  the  book  in  order  to  contribute  my  quota 
to  the  grand  work  of  pacifying  civilized  nations,  entered 
upon  by  so  many  enlightened  spirits,  and  I  agree  with  them 
in  holding  that  a  general  European  war,  especially  a  war 
between  England  and  France,  would  be  a  world  calamity,  and 
would  produce  incalculable  evils  without  recompense. 

I  venture  to  hope  that  my  book  may  prove  a  useful 
contribution  to  the  noble  crusade  of  peace.  In  this  spirit 
I  have  written  it,  and  in  this  spirit  I  now  offer  it  to  my 
English  readers. 

GUGLIELMO   FERRERO. 

TURIN  (ITALY),  January  31,  1899. 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE  TO  THE  ENGLISH   TRANSLATION. 

THIS  being  a  translation  from  a  Standard  Italian  work,  it  has  been 
thought  best  to  leave  the  text  exactly  as  in  the  original,  without 
attempting  either  to  bring  it  up  to  the  present  date,  or  to  correct  the 
occasional  inaccuracies  which  are  generally  to  be  found  in  works  written 
from  the  foreign  point  of  view.  3 

October,  1902, 

214420 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  PEACE  AND  WAR  AT  THE  END  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       9 

II.  HORDES,  OR  THE  ORIGIN  OF  WAR  .                                          -53 

III.  THE  DEFECTS  OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS       .        .        .        .91 

IV.  MILITARISM  IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD     .  ...     117 
V.    THE  DEATH-THROES  OF  A  NATION 137 

VI.  NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  WARS       .  ....     167 

VII.  MILITARISM  AND  C^ESARISM  IN  FRANCE  .  .     199 

VIII.  THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  ,  -239 

IX.  MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND  GERMANY  .     273 

X.  PAX  CHRISTIANA 291 


PEACE  AND  WAR  AT   THE    END    OF 
THE    NINETEENTH    CENTURY 


CHAPTER  I 

PEACE   AND  WAR  AT  THE  END  OF  THE   NINETEENTH 
CENTURY 


FREQUENTLY,  when  I  have  remarked  in  conversation,  "  War 
is  losing  much  of  its  pristine  importance  in  modern  civilized 
life  :  whether  it  be  that  no  longer  such  great  odds  depend  on 
it,  or  because  the  moral  conscience  of  man  is  perfecting  / 
itself,"  I  have  been  answered:  "This  is  an  illusion  that 
always  arises  on  the  eve  of  a  great  war.  We  are  on  the  eve 
of  a  terrible  one  which  will  transform  Europe  into  a  huge 
battlefield.  Man  is  born  brutal,  he  is  by  nature  a  wolf : 
how  could  you  change  him  into  a  lamb  ?  Civilization  only 
renders  the  instruments  of  war  more  terrible  in  the 
hands  of  man.  So  long  as  there  shall  be  men  on  the  earth 
there  will  be  wars,  and  the  advance  of  morality  can  do 
nothing  against  the  inexorable  law  of  force  which  domi- 
nates the  world." 

We  will  not  dwell  on  the  fact  that  for  the  past  twenty  years 
this  same  thing  has  been  repeated — that  we  are  on  the  eve  of 
an  universal  war.  If  there  is  a  fragment  of  truth  in  this  argu- 
ment, it  is  that  the  alarming  ferocity  innate  in  man  has  not 
been  one  iota  diminished  by  the  civilization  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Without  doubt  customs  have  changed  for  the  better 


; :  v  *  {  :  >\  -  JKILtTA  RISM 


since  it  rarely  happens  now  that  an  ordinary  individual 
kills  or  injures  his  fellow  ;  indeed,  it  has  become  a  rare 
thing  for  a  man  to  come  to  a  violent  death.  Two  or  three 
centuries  ago,  on  the  contrary,  assaults  and  murders  were 
common  occurrences,  little  more  than  everyday  incidents 
in  high  life  no  less  than  among  the  people ;  and  we  can  be 
certain  that  had  we  lived  in  the  seventeenth  century,  many 
of  us  by  this  time  would  already  have  hacked  the  body  of 
some  fellow  with  sword  or  dagger,  or  in  some  manner  have 
stained  our  hands  with  human  blood.  But  the  modifica- 
tion of  customs  does  not  imply  any  diminution  in  the 
innate  ferocity  of  man.  As  dynamite  can  be  stored  in  ware- 
houses left  dormant  for  years,  transported  from  spot  to 
spot  without  danger,  and  yet  retain  its  orignal  power,  if 
ignited,  to  uproot  mountains,  so  it  is  with  human  ferocity. 
It  lies  dormant  in  the  civilized  man  of  our  century,  but 
beware  if  a  spark  comes  to  kindle  its  terrible  destructive 
force. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  rash  to  suppose  that  a  diabolical 
entanglement  of  violent  passions  and  errors  urges  men  to  war, 
since  for  so  many  centuries,  in  so  many  terrific  combats,  man 
has  exhibited  so  much  ferocity  and  such  a  blind  thirst  for 
destruction.  But  even  admitting  that  this  be  true :  what  does 
it  prove  ?  The  spirit  of  man  is  replete  with  bad  passions 
and  exaggerated  ideas,  civilization  is  only  a  progressive 
repression  of  these  bad  passions,  and  a  progressive  rectifica- 
tion of  these  errors.  The  problem  of  existence  for  every 
individual  is  the  same  :  it  can  be  summed  up  in  these  terms  : 
to  seek  pleasure,  to  avoid  pain.  Now  the  problem  of  existence 
is  the  same  for  a  society  as  it  is  for  the  individuals  who  form 
it.  The  whole  existence  of  society  is  an  effort — whether 
profitable  or  futile— towards  the  acquirement  of  happiness, 


PEACE   AND    WAR  13 

which  is   the    same   as    saying   towards    justice   and    truth, 
every   increase   in  the  general  happiness  of  a  nation  being 
accompanied   by  some  progress  in  justice    and    knowledge, 
The    whole    history    of    man     is    but    the    history   of    the 
attempts    made  to   find   a    more    complete   solution  of  this 
problem  ;  what  we  call  the  advances  of  civilization  are  simply 
the  successive  and  laborious  approaches  to  a  more  and  more 
perfect  and  durable  solution  of  this  great  problem  :  "  to  be  * 
happy"— not  each  of  us  for  himself,  but   altogether,  in  the 
community  of  social  life.    Thus  we  see  that  civilization  consists 
principally  in  an  increase  of  universal  happiness  which  is  only 
to   be  reached  through  moral  and  intellectual  progress,  by 
means  of  which  so  many  evils  born  of  passion  and  error  are 
mitigated  and  by  degrees  destroyed.    Why  should  not  war  be 
amongst  these  evils  ?    Certainly  any  one  who  considers  war  as 
a  form  of  struggle  which  is  the  negation  of  justice — for  in  war 
the  morally  superior  and  morally  inferior  have  equal  chances^ 
of  victory — could  not  understand  how  the  progress  of  justice 
could  fail  to  diminish  or  abolish  it,  for  long  periods  at  least, 
from  civilization.   No  evil,  indeed,  is  capable  of  amelioration, 
unless  it  has  in  it  some  element  of  good — however  slight  this 
element  may  be.     But  if  it  were  possible  to  prove  that  war, 
in  its  final  results,  does  not  absolutely  deny  justice,  that  the 
ultimate  victory  belongs  to  the  communities  which  have  the 
greater  share  of  right  and  truth  on  their  side,  it  would  then  be 
evident  that  war  is  rather  one  of  the  many  vehicles  of  truth 
and  justice  than  a  negation  thereof;  that  it  tends  rather  to 
increase  than  to  diminish  the  sum  of  justice  in  the  world,  and 
is  therefore  at  times  a  factor  of  civilization  and  moral  progress. 
But  for  this  same  reason  it  is  evident  that  war  instead  of  being 
eternal,  tends  at  some  time  to  disappear,  when  civilization 
will  have  increased — owing  to  multiple  factors,  war  amongst 


14  MILITARISM 

others — so  as  no  longer  to  tolerate  the  infinite  evil  which  is 
in  war.  If  all  this  were  true,  war  would  almost  be  subject  to 
a  law  of  self-annihilation. 


II 

But  is  this  true  ? 

As  a  rule  war  is  considered  simply  as  a  manifestation  of 
brute  force — an  encounter  between  two  armies,  in  which  that 
which  is  best  armed  and  guided  by  the  ablest  general 
conquers  ;  a  true  assertion,  but  an  insufficient  one — one,  how- 
ever, with  which  most  people  content  themselves,  apparently 
satisfied  with  the  idea  that  the  success  of  the  issue  depends 
on  the  ability  of  the  general,  the  quality  of  the  armament,  the 
sum  a  nation  can  spend  in  arms,  on  the  valour  of  the  soldiers, 
the  superficial  and  frothy  patriotic  education  provided  in  schools 
and  barracks.  Instead  of  this,  war  is  an  encounter  between 
two  States,  and  it  is  supported  with  less  suffering  and  greater 
probability  of  victory  by  the  State  which  is  governed  with 
greater  justice,  and  in  which  the  relations  between  men  and 
social  classes  lead  to  a  greater  degree  of  .loyalty.  To  some 
countries  war  is  a  light-hearted  matter,  so  to  say  ;  to  others 
a  sad  one.  It  is  a  light  or  a  sad  undertaking  to  a  country 
according  as  its  government  is  good  or  bad,  according  to 
the  degree  of  justice  in  its  social  system.  Amongst  civilized 
and  Christian  nations  to-day,  the  more  unjustly  a  people  is 
governed — that  is  to  say,  the  more  it  is  dominated  by  petty 
and  selfish  oligarchies,  and  the  more  despotic  and  violent 
is  its  administration — so  in  proportion  is  war  a  ruinous  and 
dangerous  undertaking  for  it.  On  the  other  hand,  a  people 
governed  more  justly,  that  is,  by  a  more  liberal,  economical 
and  honest  government,  is  less  in  danger  of  the  moral  and 


PEACE  AND    WAR  15 

economical  oppression  of  one  caste  over  another,  whether 
t'-'s  be  exercised  by  means  of  or  outside  of  political  power, 
.-nd  it  is  in  a  position  to  contemplate  far  more  serenely 
the  dangers  and  hardships  entailed  by  war.  In  other  words, 
the  State  which  proves  strongest  in  war  is  that  in  which 
« :- orals  and  life  at  ordinary  times  are  the  furthest  removed 
from  the  cruelty,  egoism,  and  violence  which  during  war 
become  the  normal  conditions  of  life  and  action. 


Ill 

A  proof  of  the  truth  of  this  affirmation  is  to  be  found  in 
the  last  struggle  between  civilized  and  Christian  nations — 
the  Spanish-American  War. 

Can  we  consider  the  United  States  of  North  America  as 
a  model  of  a  society  founded  on  justice  ?  It  would  certainly 
be  imprudent  to  answer  with  an  unqualified  Yes,  because 
his  society  is  too  unequal  a  conglomeration  of  good  and  evil, 
of  vice  and  virtue.  How  can  one  give  an  unreserved  opinion 
on  a  nation  which  possesses  the  most  perfect  penitentiary 
institutions  in  the  world  for  the  shelter  and  education  of 
criminals,  and  which  at  the  same  time  tolerates  the  arbitrary 
punishment  of  crime  by  infuriated  mobs  ? — A  nation  which 
protects  the  rights  of  inventive  genius  so  rigorously  and 
wisely  by  the  law  of  patents,  a  society  which  has  thus  reached 
a  most  perfect  comprehension  of  this  last  and  subtlest  ideal 
of  property,  whose  immaterial  essence  so  many  nations  still 
fail  to  conceive,  but  which  countenances  also  the  public 
organization  of  those  associations  of  malefactors  which  are 
allowed  to  impose  the  most  monstrous  levies  on  the  popula- 
tions of  entire  cities  by  means  of  intrigue  and  fraud  ? — A 
nation  where  the  laws  punish  duels  as  homicide,  and  where 


1 6  MILITARISM 

year  after  year  the  massacre  of  tens  of  thousands  of  men  by 
railway  accidents,  due  to  the  criminal  negligence  of  rapacious 
companies,  is  tolerated  ? — A  nation  whose  Government  retains 
so  much  of  the  wolf  nature  inherent  in  the  worst  European 
Governments,  which  allows  the  most  colossal  squandering  of 
public  moneys,  which  practises  those  many  administrative 
artifices  by  which  the  true  sense,  theoretically  so  clear,  of 
meum  and  teum  is  obscured,  such  as  that  most  ingenious  of  all, 
protectionism  ? 

But  the  gravity  of  a  social  evil  should  always  be  measured 
in  proportion  to  the  force  of  resistance  of  the  society  which 
it  afflicts.  If  there  are  many  iniquities  in  American  society, 
if  abominable  and  unavenged  oppression  of  the  strong  over 
the  weak  is  not  lacking,  and  if  many  means  are  known  for 
corrupting  justice  and  robbery,  and  deceiving  one's  fellows  ; 
if  certain  of  these  evils  appear  to  have  grown  there  to  a 
formidable  degree  unknown  in  our  countries  ;  nevertheless, 
in  American  society  is  to  be  found  a  recompense  far  greater — - 
that  of  living  amidst  far  happier  natural,  social,  and  historical 
conditions. 

The  most  essential  social  bond,  which  exists  as  a  definite 
standard  of  the  degree  of  justice  and  therefore  of  civilization, 
which  a  community  has  reached,  is  the  remuneration  of  labour. 
A  country  may  possess  one  institution  or  another — the  family, 
education,  penal  or  civil  justice — better  regulated  than  in  other 
states ;  but  the  excellence  of  these  institutions  proves  nothing 
for  the  moral  superiority  of  that  nation,  if  its  system  of  re- 
muneration of  labour  is  more  iniquitous  than  in  other  states 
where  these  social  institutions  are  ruder  and  more  imperfect. 
In  the  United  States,  owing  to  the  abundance  of  land,  the 
relative  but  not  excessive  scarcity  of  capital  and  men,  human 
work  obtains  magnificent  remuneration  ;  and  obtains  it,  at 


PEACE  AND    WAR  I  7 

least  in  certain  parts  of  the  Union,  in  the  midst  of  a  mar- 
vellous and  almost  perfectly  organized  civilization.  The 
fabulous  prodigality  with  which  the  earth  pours  from  her  full 
bosom,  after  an  accumulation  of  thousands  of  centuries,  the 
first  abundance  of  her  treasures ;  the  possession  of  the 
elaborate  culture  of  our  civilization  free  from  so  many 
atavisms,  prejudices,  and  dead  traditions  which  encumber 
the  foundations  of  our  society ;  the  extreme  freedom  and 
ease  of  the  individual,  not  handicapped  as  we  are  in  changing 
occupations,  habits,  social  caste,  received  ideals,  and  social 
axioms  by  a  social  tradition,  become  almost  sacred ;  the 
innumerable  opportunities  in  the  midst  of  such  constant 
material  and  intellectual  change  for  the  association  of  indi- 
vidual talents  and  energies ;  the  prodigious  rapidity  with 
which  these  combinations  can  be  formed  and  dissolved ;  the 
frequent  return  of  opportunities  brought  about  by  the  rapidly 
revolving  wheel  of  fortune ;  the  instability  of  all  things — of 
good  but  no  less  of  bad ;  the  purely  temporary  nature 
of  all  conditions ;  the  almost  complete  want  of  any  definite 
solutions  ; — of  necessity  imply  that  there  is  no  defeat  without 
reconquest,  no  decay  without  rebirth.  These  conditions 
prevailing  in  America,  render  it  easy  to  any  ordinarily  intelli- 
gent and  energetic  man  to  obtain  for  his  work  remunera- 
tion which  errs  rather  on  the  side  of  being  beyond  than 
beneath  his  deserts ;  never  so  low  as  to  force  him  to  live 
without  other  satisfaction  than  that  of  not  dying  of  hunger ; 
without  rendering  possible,  however,  those  fabulous  remunera- 
tions to  be  obtained  in  new  countries,  still  in  their  infancy 
and  almost  uninhabited — demoralizing  remunerations  on 
account  of  their  liberality,  which  are  only  possible  where 
civilization  is  not  yet  fully  organized.  It  is  a  matter  of  small 
importance,  then,  if  American  industrial  protectionism,  for  the 

B 


1 8  MILITARISM 

benefit  of  a  few,  renders  many  things  unreasonably  expensive  ; 
if  the  money  collected  by  taxes  is  often  spent  badly  and 
frequently  misappropriated  ;  if  oligarchies  of  capitalists  impose 
levies  on  the  population  by  means  of  monopolies.  Many 
may  obtain  enormous  profits  from  these  iniquities,  but  without 
reducing  the  condition  of  others  to  such  a  point  as  only  to 
allow  of  their  not  dying  of  hunger.  Vast  industrialism 
disciplines  but  does  not  degrade  a  nation.  Indeed,  the  fact 
that  American  capital  is  employed  by  preference  in  the 
creation  of  aristocratic  industries,  like  the  mechanical  ones, 
which  demand  a  great  deal  of  instruction  and  a  certain 
intellectual  superiority  in  the  worker,  and  that  the  good 
instinct  of  the  whole  people  makes  them  give  their  preference 
in  the  market  to  articles  of  the  highest  quality,  both  in  material 
and  workmanship,  has  resulted  in  producing  a  working  class 
composed,  not  merely  of  rude  weavers  and  spinners,  of  ignorant 
labourers  employed  in  the  simplest  trades,  who  exercise  nothing 
but  brute  force — as  happens  in  many  European  countries.  We 
find  here,  on  the  contrary,  what  I  might  be  allowed  to  call  an 
aristocracy  of  labour,  well  educated,  and  used  to  an  almost 
luxurious  standard  of  life,  a  class  of  workers,  in  consequence, 
who  cannot  be  too  much  imposed  on  by  intrigues  of  capital 
without  risk  of  lowering  the  quality  of  the  work  demanded  of 
them.  Brutal  and  degrading  works  devolve  upon  negroes, 
Chinese,  and  Italian  emigrants.  It  is  true  that  the  workers 
of  the  United  States  are,  like  others,  subject  to  periods  of 
enforced  idleness,  proportionate  to  the  immense  and  rapid 
advance  of  their  industrial  speculations,  and  consequently 
more  intense  than  similar  European  crises ;  but  the  crisis  and 
misery  are  of  short  duration,  for  the  workers  who  are  super- 
fluous in  one  trade  rapidly  turn  to  another  which  lacks 
hands. 


PEACE  AND    WAR  1 9 

The  lot  of  the  middle  class,  amidst  considerable  adversity, 
is  equally  good. 

Thanks  to  the  almost  complete  lack  of  intellectual  pro- 
tectionism— that  is,  of  academical  degrees  which  ensure  the 
monopoly  of  certain  professions — thanks,  in  consequence,  to 
the  lack  of  a  government  curriculum  of  unprofitable  and 
obligatory  studies,  America  is  exempt  from  an  intellectual 
proletariat  and  from  the  declassds,  the  chronic  disease  of  the 
middle  classes  in  Europe.  Let  him  who  can  do  a  thing  well 
step  forward  and  do  it,  no  one  will  question  where  he  learnt 
it :  such  is  the  degree  required  of  an  American  engineer, 
barrister,  clerk,  or  employe.  And  as  the  opportunities  to  do 
well  are  innumerable,  every  one  can  develop  the  talents  with 
which  Nature  has  endowed  him,  changing  his  occupation 
according  to  circumstances  and  opportunity.  Whereas  for 
a  young  man  belonging  to  the  middle  class  in  continental 
Europe,  the  choice  of  a  profession  is  a  solemn  deed,  entailing 
practically  the  consecration  of  his  whole  future  to  one  object 
from  that  hour  deemed  immutable,  and  against  which  his 
will  from  thenceforward  will  have  but  little  force.  For  the 
American  this  choice  is  always  transitory  and  variable  in 
accordance  with  circumstances ;  he  is  never  a  victim  of  the 
tyranny  of  a  choice  made  once  for  all  for  his  whole  life,  often 
whilst  still  immature ;  and  he  rarely  finds  himself  in  either  of 
those  two  situations  so  ruinous  to  the  middle  classes  in 
Europe,  more  especially  in  the  Latin  countries :  the  absolute 
uncertainty  of  success,  and  the  utter  despair  of  ever  recovering 
from  a  sudden  ruin.  Where  all  professions  are  handsomely 
remunerated  so  as  to  allow  to  all  a  luxurious  life,  an 
American  is  always  ready  to  see  the  particular  stream  at 
which  he  has  been  drinking  dried  up,  and  be  prepared 
to  pack  up  his  belongings  and  set  off  in  search  of  another. 


2O  MILITARISM 

In  recompense,  he  need  never  feel  himself  condemned 
to  the  long-life  misery  of  being  tied  down  to  a  profession, 
chosen  badly  but  irrevocably,  or  to  the  wretched  pursuit 
of  a  dying  industry  ruined  by  competition  or  economic 
evolution.  The  strong  spiritual  energies  of  this  class,  con- 
stantly fostered  by  surrounding  circumstances,  occasionally 
give  rise  to  violent  tempests,  it  is  true,  and  bring  the  scum  to 
the  surface,  but  they  never  rot  in  a  state  of  pestilential  inertia 
from  which  exhale  the  vapours  of  dark  pessimism  and  the 
fevers  of  vain  revolutionary  ideas.  The  sight  of  the  soul 
remains  always  clear  and  unveiled,  though  it  often  be  capable 
of  penetrating  none  but  material  objects  ;  the  will  remains 
young  and  active,  because  constantly  exercised  by  the  simple 
and  healthy  gymnastics  of  action. 

And  thus  it  is  that  work,  the  great  trial  that  God,  accord- 
ing to  the  Bible,  imposed  on  the  human  race,  the  servile  yoke 
which  man  has  borne  for  so  many  ages,  and  to  escape  which 
classes  and  nations  have  spilt  so  much  blood,  changes  its 
nature,  and  instead  of  degrading  man,  ennobles  him.  A  new 
passion,  common  to  all  the  Anglo-Saxon  races,  has  become 
the  mainspring  of  the  morality  of  a  civilization,  new  also, 
itself — the  ardent  passion  for  work,  the  ambition  to  reach  by 
its  means  an  excellence  hitherto  unknown.  Nothing  is  more 
difficult  to  man  than  moderation.  Instead  of  seeking  happi- 
ness in  the  wise  exercise  of  his  forces,  and  in  the  healthy 
indulgence  of  divers  pleasures  which  demand  a  certain  effort 
of  will  and  self-control,  he  seeks  it  in  the  frantic  pursuit  of 
one  particular  pleasure,  which,  though  frequently  unhealthy 
and  dangerous,  gives  inebriating  joy  for  a  minute,  and  dis- 
penses with  the  necessity  of  tedious  self-control.  Thus  hard 
but  not  too  exhausting  work,  alternated  with  sufficient  repose, 
would  procure  for  man  the  most  durable  and  pleasurable 


PEACE   AND    WAR  21 

mode  of  life ;  but  he,  on  the  contrary,  is  rather  inclined  to 
yield  to  the  seductions  of  the  enfeebling  pleasures  of  repose 
prolonged  beyond  the  period  necessary  for  the  recuperation 
of  his  forces — that  is,  of  absolute  laziness — or  of  the  sublime 
and  fatal  voluptuousness  to  be  obtained  through  the  abuse  of 
his  intellectual  forces,  in  an  attempt  to  multiply  his  efforts  and 
successes  in  the  struggle  for  life.  The  excess  of  labour  can 
procure  a  voluptuous  spiritual  exaltation  in  which  man  feels 
as  though  his  energies  were  doubled,  in  which  fatigue  appears 
delight,  so  easy  and  pleasant  does  work  become  to  him  :  a 
delight  which  few  can  resist  by  taking  necessary  repose,  for 
the  exaltation  of  overwork  cannot  last  indefinitely,  and  nearly 
always  terminates  in  painful  physical  and  mental  disease. 
Thus  whilst  moderate  labour  may  be  healthily  pleasurable, 
absolute  idleness  or  the  abuse  of  work  are  morbid  passions  ; 
and  we  find  that  in  certain  communities — Turkey,  for  instance 
— absolute  idleness  is  regarded  as  the  supreme  pleasure  of 
existence,  and  is  led  by  those  who  are  considered  perfect  and 
happy — the  highest  classes — and  in  other  countries,  such  as 
England  and. the  United  States,  the  greatest  joy  of  life  is 
found  in  hard  work,  in  the  utmost  exercise  of  the  human 
faculties  within  the  bounds  of  possibility. 

In  the  American  the  passion  for  work  is  combined  with  the 
pride  in  doing  his  best,  the  ambition  not  to  allow  himself  to 
be  overcome  by  any  difficulties,  and  to  reach  an  unsurpassed 
grade  of  excellence.  All  men  work  with  a  view  to  some 
reward ;  but  some  are  satisfied  with  pay,  others,  besides  at 
money  reward,  seek  to  satisfy  their  own  amour-propre}  and  to 
obtain  the  admiration  of  others.  It  is  the  same  with  the  work 
of  nations,  and  indeed,  from  the  reward  generally  sought 
after,  the  quality  of  the  work  may  be  judged.  Although 
Americans  are  commonly  accused  of  cupidity,  their  work 


22  MILITARISM 

ranks  among  the  most  disinterested,  because  they  aim  not 
only  at  accumulating  money,  but  also,  they  display  an  in- 
satiable thirst  for  perfection,  which  tends  to  idealize  their 
work ;  and  into  nearly  all  they  do  they  put  extra  labour,  not 
with  the  object  of  gaining  more  money,  but  of  improving  the 
quality  of  the  work.  The  decisive  proof  of  the  superiority 
of  American  work  was  given  by  industrial  protectionism 
which,  in  continental  Europe,  has  lowered  the  standard  of 
goods,  because  the  manufacturers,  content  with  the  easy 
profits  obtained  by  protectionism,  consider  themselves  exempt 
from  the  trouble  of  perfecting  their  own  goods.  American 
industries,  on  the  contrary — the  mechanical  ones  more  parti- 
cularly— have  reached  a  marvellous  degree  of  perfection,  not- 
withstanding protectionism,  because  the  manufacturers  were 
stimulated,  not  merely  by  a  desire  to  gain  money,  but  also  by 
the  ambition  of  displaying  a  degree  of  excellence  in  their 
productions  till  then  unknown  to  the  world.  American  goods, 
moreover,  have  notoriously  the  reputation  of  costliness  and 
high  finish. 

No  doubt  this  passion  for  work  and  this  ambition  for 
excellence,  so  deep-rooted  in  the  American  and  English 
mind,  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  work  is  not  too  hard  and 
its  remuneration  good.  The  Americans  are  made  of  the 
same  clay  as  other  white  men,  and  great  hardship  in  work 
and  very  poor  recompense  for  it  would  have  created  in  them, 
as  in  other  civilized  peoples,  insupportable  weariness  of 
labour  and  indifference  to  its  quality.  But  as  luckily  for 
them  this  is  not  so,  the  passion  for  work  and  its  excellence 
became  the  ruling  force  of  their  nation,  and  the  moral 
basis  of  their  society,  for  to  these  two  sentiments  are 
attributable  the  greatest  qualities  and  the  worst  defects  of 
the  American  —  amongst  their  defects,  the  weakness  of 


PEACE  AND    WAR  23 

family  ties,  the  inordinate  admiration  of  success,  and  the 
lack  of  scruples  in  the  struggle  ;  amongst  their  good  qualities, 
their  force  of  will,  their  courage,  their  strong  spirit  of  social 
solidarity  and  justice,  the  capacity  to  act  on  other  than 
directly  personal  motives  and  interests. 

What  power  does  not  this  sentiment  give  to  American  and 
English  society?  The  greatness  of  a  nation  depends  on  a 
high  standard  of  moral  solidarity,  and  this  is  high  only  where 
each  respects  in  others  the  rights  he  himself  claims,  and 
admits  for  himself  the  same  duties  which  he  would  impose 
upon  others  under  similar  circumstances  ;  it  arises  from  the 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  if  men  differ  from  one  another  in 
talent,  culture,  and  wealth,  they  are  nevertheless  morally 
equal,  and  that  no  one  of  them  is  morally  bound  to  serve  his 
fellow  without  receiving  just  and  equivalent  remuneration. 
Where  this  sentiment  of  the  moral  equality  of  men  is  most 
deeply  felt,  every  one  resents  the  injustice  done  to  others,  and 
in  thought  and  action  aims  at  social  justice.  But  the  con- 
ditions most  favourable  to  the  development  of  this  sentiment 
are  those  under  which  no  one  depends  for  his  livelihood  on 
the  capricious  benevolence  of  others,  but  like  the  American 
and  Englishmen,  only  on  his  own  capacities  to  serve  in  some 
way  his  fellows,  receiving  their  services  in  exchange,  and 
these  not  measured  arbitrarily  by  some  power  outside  himself, 
but  governed  by  his  own  judgment.  This  liberty  develops 
in  him  the  sense  of  moral  dignity,  which  is  the  backbone  of 
the  human  character  and  of  the  sentiment  of  moral  equality. 
When,  on  the  contrary,  men  depend  for  their  livelihood  on 
the  caprice  of  others,  the  patron  claims  for  himself  other 
rights  than  he  recognizes  in  his  protege.  When  the  protege 
admits  this,  there  is  born  the  sentiment  known  as  servility — 
the  protege  acquiescing  in  the  fact  that  the  patron  on  whom  he 


24  MILITARISM 

depends  has  the  licence  to  commit  iniquities  and  to  be  over- 
bearing. These  things  may  annoy  him  when  he  is  the  direct 
victim,  but  do  not  offend  his  torpid  sense  of  justice  when 
inflicted  on  others,  and  indeed  in  the  long  run  he  often 
grows  indifferent.  But  the  man  who  is  alive  to  the  sense  of 
his  moral  equality  with  others  does  not  bow  to  injustice,  for 
this  sentiment  becomes  such  a  stimulus  to  his  energies  that 
it  generates  in  him  an  insatiable  desire  to  perfect  his  own 
conditions  and  those  of  others,  and  to  free  them  from  the 
ever-diminishing  degree  of  injustice  which,  to  his  refined 
conscience,  appear  more  intolerable  the  meaner  they  are— 
a  desire  which  he  satisfies  in  diverse  ways,  and  which 
maintains  in  a  free  society  a  continuous  and  lively  circula- 
tion of  ideas,  -and  an  interest  in  moral  and  social  reform. 
Indifference  to  injustice,  on  the  contrary,  renders  man 
apathetic  and  lazy,  leading  to  aimlessness  in  life  and 
inertness  of  intellect,  as  we  shall  better  demonstrate  in  speak- 
ing of  Spain,  in  societies  organized,  not  in  accordance  with 
principles  of  liberty,  but  of  protection. 

But  in  the  American  the  sentiment  of  social  solidarity  is 
strengthened  by  the  proud  ambition  never  to  give  way  to 
obstacles,  and  to  aim  always  at  the  highest  perfection  in  all 
things.  This  introduces  a  new  altruistic  stimulus  to  life, 
rendering  man  capable  of  acting  from  other  than  selfish 
motives.  If  this  stimulus,  born  of  pride,  cannot  be  considered 
especially  noble,  it  is  nevertheless  a  precious  one  if  we 
consider  the  gross  egoism  of  man.  It  is  always  a  great  thing 
to  raise  man  from  his  native  selfishness,  if  only  by  means  of 
pride  ;  and  still  greater  if  his  ambition  to  conquer  is  stimu- 
lated, not  with  a  view  to  obtaining  the  good  opinion  of 
others,  but  of  satisfying  his  own.  Thus  it  is  with  the 
American  who  has  in  him,  in  his  pride  to  succeed  well  in  all 


PEACE   AND    WAR  2$ 

he  undertakes,  the  chief  incentive  to  raise  himself  from  the 
pettiness  of  private  interest,  and  to  labour  not  only  for  him- 
self but  also  for  a  perfection  in  which  he  will  find  none  but 
ideal  satisfaction. 

In  short,  what  has  made  American  society  appear  to 
Europeans  in  the  light  of  an  enchanted  world,  is  that  it 
combines  two  qualities  which  seemed  each  naturally  to 
exclude  the  other  by  absolute  contrariety  :  the  refinement  of 
culture  and  morals  only  possible  to  a  long-established 
civilization,  and  the  freedom  of  the  individual  from  those 
oppressive  historical,  political,  moral,  and  intellectual  tyran- 
nies which  the  State  accumulates  and  imposes  on  all  our 
anciently  civilized  countries.  Hence  arises  the  marvellous 
range  of  moral  energies  in  the  individual,  which,  in  the 
United  States,  vents  itself  in  an  unmeasured  ambition  to  do 
great  things,  and  to  which  the  benignity  of  surrounding 
Nature  gives  such  full  satisfaction.  Who  has  not  heard  say 
that  in  America  the  dimensions  of  .everything  were  designed 
by  men  with  double  or  triple  sight?  An  aristocracy  of 
wealth  served  by  an  infinite  mass  of  inanimate  slaves, 
animated  by  a  soul  of  steam  or  electricity,  which  spare  their 
masters  the  trouble  even  of  slight  exertion  :  this  is  the  ideal 
of  life  to  the  American,  to  satisfy  which  his  ingenuity 
conceives  and  constructs  every  year  a  prodigious  number 
of  machines  to  perform  the  greatest  and  the  meanest 
of  services — to  convey  electricity  across  continents,  to  squash 
flies,  and  to  clean  shoes.  Everything  there  is  on  a 
gigantic  scale  :  the  newspapers  print  sufficient  paper  every 
day  to  envelop  the  world ;  their  houses  rival  the  tower 
of  Babel ;  their  great  offices  have  the  dimensions  of  cities  ; 
donations  to  public  schools  can  be  reckoned  by  tens  of 
millions  of  dollars,  and  the  fortunes  of  the  very  rich  by 


26  MILITARISM 

thousands.  This  is  the  modern  form  taken  by  that  instinct 
of  greatness  which  in  the  past  gave  rise  to  the  mightiest 
aristocratic  creations  of  history,  then  directed  towards  art 
and  now  to  mechanical  industry ;  that  same  instinct  which 
led  the  Romans  to  create  the  Colosseum  and  the  Baths,  the 
Venetians  to  create  the  Grand  Canal, 'the  Florentines  Santa 
Maria  del  Fiore,  and  which  now  leads  the  Americans  to 
create  a  world  where  real  things  have  taken  the  proportions 
we  behold.  These  grandiose  aristocracies — so  prodigal  of 
beauty,  wealth,  and  grandeur — pass  away,  because  the 
benignity  of  the  natural  and  social  conditions  amidst  which 
they  grow  are  rapidly  exhausted ;  and  so  also  the  day  will 
come  when  the  population  of  the  United  States  will  have 
multiplied  a  hundred-fold,  and  the  earth  will  be  a  little  tired, 
and  then  the  Americans  also  will  have  to  be  more  economical. 
Then  our  descendants,  when  recollecting  the  fabulous  prodi- 
gality of  the  past,  will  receive  an  impression  analogous  to 
that  which  we  receive  when  looking  back  on  the  princely 
grandeur  of  Venice ;  they  will  find  in  them  both  two 
different  forms  of  the  same  sentiment,  the  ambition  for  great- 
ness, which  at  times  takes  hold  of  social  communities  and 
entire  nations,  and  whose  first  incentive  in  the  Americans 
was  fundamental  justice  and  the  splendid  liberality  of  the 
remuneration  given  to  human  work. 

Thus  social  iniquities  in  America  are  as  cyclones  that  rise, 
go  their  way,  annihilating  men  and  their  work  along  the  course 
of  their  terrible  progress,  and  then  dissolve  into  nothing. 
In  a  word,  iniquity  is  one  of  the  violent  and  intermittent 
forms  of  evil,  like  fire,  and  tempests  and  earthquakes  amongst 
physical  phenomena,  and  acute  and  mortal  diseases  amongst 
the  phenomena  of  organic  life.  The  most  terrible  of  all,  I 
hear  some  one  exclaim.  Indeed  no:  the  most  terrible  in 


PEACE  AND    W 'A R  2j 

appearance,  perhaps,  but  the  most  innocent  in  reality.  The 
violent  forms  of  evil  wrench  some  fruit  from  the  tree  of  life, 
break  a  few  branches,  denude  it  of  some  beautiful  leaves,  and 
this  is  the  extent  of  the  evil  of  which  they  are  capable.  The 
really  terrible  forms  of  evil  are  slow  and  continuous  :  not 
those  which  annihilate,  but  those  which  insidiously  corrupt 
life  ;  those  which  attack  the  root,  and  diffuse  themselves 
upwards  from  it,  poisoning  the  purest  lymph  in  the  live 
trunk.  The  terrible  in  life  and  nature  is  not  the  violent 
outburst  of  evil  in  passing  devastations,  but  the  slow  and 
continuous  spread  of  malignant  essences,  which  continuously 
distil  in  the  secret  recesses  of  being,  and  spread  by  means  of 
the  most  subtle  natural  influences  through  the  veins  of  creation. 
The  fury  of  a  storm  destroys  pastures,  cattle,  houses  :  many 
people  die  in  consequence  of  it,  much  property  is  destroyed  ; 
but  calm  returns  shortly,  and  only  a  vague  recollection  of 
the  tempest  remains.  But  in  the  countries  which  nature  has 
for  centuries  inoculated  with  the  germs  of  fever,  where  man 
finds  himself  attacked  by  an  enemy  always  present  and 
invisible  ;  where  he  breathes  the  fever  the  earth  exhales  at 
sunrise  and  sundown,  and  drinks  fever  dissolved  in  water  and 
in  the  juice  of  fruits ;  where  whole  populations  die  slowly, 
without  having  received  any  external  shock  ; — the  poison, 
secreted  and  absorbed  for  centuries  by  the  earth,  destroys 
their  constitutions  by  slow  degrees. 

IV 

This  is  the  reason  why  Spain  is  so  much  less  happy  than 
the  United  States.     Iniquity  does  not  burst  forth  there  in      / 
transitory  furies,  but  it  exhales  from  the  earth  and  slowly 
poisons  like  a  miasma.     An  old  society  leaning  on  pillars 
of  injustice,  which  has  grown  darker  from  century  to  century, 


28  MILITARISM 

bolstered  up  by  the  dust  of  innumerable  iniquities,  from 
this  earth  poisoned  slowly,  molecule  by  molecule,  exhales  a 
malaria  whence  all  the  classes  which  build  up  Spanish  society 
must  perish,  unable  to  find  the  conditions  necessary  for 
healthy  development. 

The  main  characteristic  of  Spanish  society  is  that  it  is 
formed,  not  on  principles  of  liberty,  but  of  protection,  for  the 
greater  number,  more  especially  of  the  easy  and  educated 
class,  who  form  the  morality  and  culture  of  a  country,  and 
depend  for  existence  not  on  their  own  labour,  but  on  the 
caprice  of  others.  It  is  this  which  renders  unjust  the 
remuneration  of  labour.  Men  find  little  opportunity  to  do 
anything  in  Spain,  because  a  few,  protected  by  the  State, 
have  usurped  unjust  reward,  greater  than  is  due  to  their 
merit,  thereby  diminishing  the  recompense  available  to  others 
to  a  degree  that  renders  work  repugnant.  Spain  is  apparently 
ruled  by  a  parliament ;  but  this  regime  covers  a  hidden  caste 
despotism,  because  the  most  essential  condition  to  liberty — as 
demonstrated  by  a  great  Italian  writer  on  political  science, 
Gaetano  Mosca l — the  plurality  of  political  forces  in  the  govern- 
ment of  a  society,  is  totally  lacking.  In  other  words,  all  the 
classes  or  social  groups  who,  owing  to  wealth  or  culture,  are 
in  a  position  to  direct  or  misdirect  public  affairs  in  Spain, 
form  part  of  or  are  interested  in  the  Government,  and  by 
means  of  it  they  grasp  or  seek  to  grasp  an  undue  reward  for 
their  services.  The  nobility,  which  consists  almost  entirely 
of  proprietors  of  arable  land,  is  in  need  of  Government 
protection,  by  means  of  taxation,  against  the  competition 
of  American  grain.  The  great  financiers  accumulate  wealth 
principally  by  speculating  in  public  finances.  The  great  in- 
dustrialists and  merchants  grow  rich  illicitly  by  the  monopolies 
*  In  his  book  "  Element!  di  Scienza  politica"  (Turin,  1896), 


PEACE  AND    WAR  29 

and  protection  conceded  by  the  Government.  The  middle 
class  largely  depends  on  public  appointments  and  politics,  for 
parliament  is  composed  of  lawyers,  journalists,  and  jobbers, 
who  live  by  defending  the  great  financiers  and  speculators. 
The  prelates,  endowed  with  State  farms,  can  but  be  obsequious 
to  it. 

Thus  there  does  not  exist,  as  in  England,  a  middle  class 
independent  of  the  Government,  capable  of  controlling  and 
opposing  it ;  but  only  the  ignorant  and  miserable  masses 
who  are  forced  to  contribute  very  largely  through  taxes  to 
the  maintenance  and  enrichment  of  the  governing  oligarchy. 
They  must,  moreover,  play  their  part  in  the  comedy  of 
universal  suffrage  by  voting,  that  is  to  say,  for  the  candidate 
whom  the  coteries  in  power  have  already  selected.  And  for 
this  it  is  necessary  to  keep  them  in  ignorance. 

In  such  a  society  the  ideal  object  in  life  is  naturally  to 
shirk  any  severe  labour  and  responsibility.  For  some  the 
seductions  of  idleness  are  too  strong,  for  others  the  difficulties 
of  work  too  great,  so  that,  while  some  do  little  or  nothing, 
the  rest  are  forced  to  overwork  in  order  to  do  their  share. 
Hence  they  grow  to  regard  happiness  as  consisting,  not  in  the 
liberality  of  remuneration  and  the  satisfaction  of  work  well 
done,  but  in  making  the  smallest  effort  possible.  They  take 
no  pleasure  or  pride  in  their  work,  and  have  no  other  aim 
than  to  obtain,  with  the  least  possible  trouble,  some  sort  of 
money  remuneration.  The  ignorant  and  bigoted  rich  have  no 
regard  for  agriculture  ;  they  live  far  away  from  their  estates  ; 
the  only  interest  they  take  in  them  is  to  draw  their  rents, 
which  they  mercilessly  extort  from  the  peasants,  in  order  to 
spend  the  money  in  urban  luxuries  and  dissipations,  pro- 
tected by  iniquitous  governmental  taxations.  And  how 
should  the  rude  peasants  who  are  forced  to  lead  such  hard 


3O  MILITARISM 

and  laborious  lives,  for  the  pleasures  of  others,  take  more 
interest  in  the  land  than  their  masters  ?  Not  even  the  small 
landed  proprietors — except  in  a  few  districts,  such  as  Anda- 
lusia— possess  the  true  love  of  agriculture,  or  cultivate  the 
ground  with  zeal  and  passion.  They  are  only  the  unconscious 
heirs  of  ancient  practices  and  traditions  which  they  have  in- 
herited from  their  fathers,  and  will  bequeath  to  their  sons. 
Their  ignorance  is  of  the  densest,  and  they  have  no  incen- 
tive to  improve  themselves.  They  are  satisfied  if,  by  means  of 
small  frauds,  usuries,  and  persistent  usurpations,  they  succeed 
in  augmenting  their  property  by  a  few  acres.  The  Spanish 
peasant  does  not  trouble  to  better  his  system  of  cultivation. 
Ignorant,  superstitious,  conservative,  of  the  severest  morals, 
his  whole  spiritual  existence  consists  in  the  most  elementary 
egoism.  The  artisan  classes  are  equally  ignorant,  with  the 
exception  of  the  few  turbulent  workers  in  the  great  Cata- 
lonian  factories.  They  are  poor,  bigoted,  illiterate,  lazy,  and 
consider  work  merely  as  a  service  to  the  Government  and 
wealthy  classes.  They  have  little  moral  sense,  and  no 
character,  and  are  a  true  hot-bed  of  the  crime  and  mendicity 
which  infest  Spain.  Nor  are  the  industrial  and  commercial 
upper  middle  classes  relatively  superior.  With  the  exception 
of  those  engaged  in  certain  industrial  pursuits  traditional  to 
the  country,  they  show  neither  originality,  enterprise,  love  of 
perfection,  or  any  passion  for  study  or  culture.  The  Catalonian 
manufacturers  aim  only  at  accumulating  large  profits,  and  for 
this  reason  Spanish  industry  ranks  among  the  humblest  and 
roughest,  despite  the  fact  that  it  had  once  secured  itself  a 
rich  colonial  market,  on  most  advantageous  terms,  with  high 
productive  tariffs  in  favour  of  the  commerce  and  industry  of 
the  mother-land. 

The  moral  malady  that  afflicts  the  middle  classes  is  more 


PEACE  AND    WAR  31 

complicated  and  painful.  If  the  middle  class  prospers  in 
America,  because  it  knows  how  to  preserve  the  equilibrium 
between  character  and  riches,  exercising  thought  and  will  in 
the  healthy  gymnastics  of  action,  in  Spain,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  atavistic  prejudices  against  industrial  labour,  the 
degeneration  of  several  very  noble  trades  through  the  careless- 
ness of  the  men  who  followed  them,  the  difficulty  of  commerce 
and  industry  proper  to  impoverished  countries  that  lack 
capital,  prevent  the  middle-class  youth  from  entering  on  this 
healthy  life,  and  leave  him  only  the  resource  of  liberal 
professions  and  Government  appointments.  A  youth  belong- 
ing to  the  lower  bourgeoisie  is  thus  set  to  study,  at  the  cost  of 
serious  family  sacrifice  ;  he  enters  the  military  schools,  which 
he  leaves  as  an  officer  at  the  age  of  16  or  17,  after  having 
learnt  very  little.  He  is  thus  fully  equipped  to  form  part 
of  the  most  ignorant  class  of  officers  in  the  world.  Or  he  goes 
to  the  University  to  swell  the  ranks  of  those  poor  and  idle 
students — too  numerous  in  all  Latin  nations,  but  poorer  and 
lazier  in  Spain  than  elsewhere.  These  University  studies 
are  still  simpler,  more  careless  and  incomplete,  than  in  France 
or  Italy.  The  youths  waste  their  time  in  dissipation,  till 
they  find  themselves  at  the  end  of  their  University  education 
as  ignorant  as  when  they  started,  and  as  incapable  of  rendering 
any  useful  or  becoming  service  to  their  fellows.  It  only 
remains  for  them  to  gain,  by  means  of  baseness  and  servility, 
the  favour  of  some  great  family  or  political  leader,  and  to 
obtain  through  his  influence  some  liberal  profession,  State 
appointment,  or  political  opening.  Only  a  few  cunning  or 
lucky  men,  however,  succeed  in  reaching  fame,  fortune,  or 
honour  through  politics  or  appointments  in  a  poor  country, 
where  the  circulation  of  wealth  is  as  slow  as  a  torpid  and 
muddy  stream.  To  others  there  only  remain  the  most 


32  MILITARISM 

poorly  paid  employments,  and  the  decently  clothed  squalor 
of  the  petty  bourgeoisie  that  tries  to  live  like  the  easy 
classes  without  possessing  the  means  to  do  so.  In  recom- 
pense for  this,  however,  they  obtain  life  appointments  when 
once  they  enter  the  ranks  of  the  permanent  functionaries  ; 
nor  do  they  need,  in  order  to  obtain  this,  to  give  proof  of  their 
aptitude  to  do  a  given  work.  A  little  influence  suffices,  and 
the  work  is  then  light  and  free  from  responsibility  to  him  who 
does  not  care  to  work  too  hard.  Thus  he  is  able  to  satisfy  to 
the  full  the  ideal  of  every  Spanish  middle-class  youth  :  to  be 
an  official  at  Madrid,  to  work  little ;  to  be  able  well  dressed 
to  take  part  in  the  prado  promenade  in  the  corridas  and 
theatre  ;  to  be  received  amongst  the  minor  guests  in  some 
great  family  ;  to  go  to  bed  late,  get  up  late  in  the  morning, 
go  to  business  late,  and  leave  it  early  without  having  done  much 
work.  Only  the  more  fortunate  and  intelligent  and  the 
least  scrupulous,  run  any  chance  of  shining  in  Madrid  society ; 
of  attaining  to  well-paid  posts  where  they  can  sell  their  in- 
fluence at  a  high  price ;  of  becoming  celebrated  orators  to 
whose  lectures  flock  the  ladies  of  Madrid,  or  the  leaders  of 
political  factions.  The  remainder  are  condemned  to  a  poor  and 
obscure  life,  with  only  one  advantage  :  that  of  being  exempt 
from  the  need  of  serious  work  or  study.  The  Spanish 
administration,  which  is  composed  of  similar  functionaries,  is, 
in  consequence,  the  most  ignorant  in  Europe,  and  its  politics 
the  richest  in  talk  and  the  poorest  in  deeds  and  ideas. 

For  all  these  reasons — so  contrary  to  what  we  observe  in 
American  society — according  to  the  psychological  process 
demonstrated,  the  defect  of  Spanish  society  is  the  lack  of 
energy,  the  indifference  of  the  upper  classes,  which  oscillates 
between  extravagant  pride  and  base  servility,  for  the  senti- 
ment of  justice,  personal  dignity  and  moral  equality  is  feeble 


PEACE  AND    WAR  33 

in  all  classes.     The  whole  of  society  always  finds  itself  in  the 
position  of  protector  or  protected,  every  one  being  in  turn 
the  protege  of  some  one  and  the  protector  of  somebody  else  ; 
and  hence  arises  the  universal  indifference  to  the  injustice  of 
those  in  power,  and  to  the  consequent  social  ills — the  harshness 
of  the  relations  between  rich  and  poor,  the  apathy  and  fatalism 
of  the  multitudes  who  do  not  heed  the  troubles  of  others,  and 
scarcely  note  their  own.     Thus  it  is  in  the  natural  order  of 
things  that  Jesuitism  should  have  more  weight  in  Spain  than 
elsewhere ;    and    that    Catholicism — this    Proteus,  which    in 
America   and    Belgium   is   becoming    liberal,   tolerant,    and 
active — should  remain  here  the  religion  of  vanity,  ignorance, 
and  sloth,  fetes,  ceremonies,  and  processions  ;  the  luxury  of 
the  great  prelates ;  bountiful  charity  to  vagabonds  ;  flattery 
to  the  vanity  and  idleness  of  women  ;   absolution  for  sins 
born  of  laziness  and  egoism,  such  as  libertinage,  envy,  avarice, 
vanity,  and  calumny ;  pitiless  rigour  against  the  virtues  due 
to  labour  and  generosity,  such  as  pride,  compassion  for  social 
evils ;   the  desire  for   culture  and   breadth  of  ideas ;  moral 
formalism  and   bigotism  which  deform  the  soul,  arrogance 
towards  the  State,  and  the  ambition  to  be  beyond  its  bounds. 
This  is  a  true  picture   of  Spanish   Catholicism :    a  formid- 
able instrument  for  shattering  the  moral  energies  of  man,  for 
reducing  character  to  something  limp  and  devoid  of  back- 
bone.    And  thus  the  work  of  the  Church  tends  to  complete 
the   moral  enervation  of  Spanish  society,  founded   on   the 
unjust  remuneration  of  labour.     Hence  all  hedge  themselves 
round  with  petty  individual  and  family  selfishness,  and  remain 
deaf  to  the  demands  of  modern  civilization,  that  incites  men 
to    great    and    hardy   deeds,    rewarding    then   with   liberal 
recompense. 


34  MILITARISM 

V 

Now,  the  United  States  does  not  yet  possess  a  standing 
army.  Till  recent  years  they  had  a  few  old  ships  rather  than 
a  fleet,  and  even  now  their  fleet  is  but  of  some  few  years' 
standing.  Besides  this,  they  have  the  established  reputation 
of  being  the  least  heroic  and  chivalrous,  the  most  bourgeois 
and  mercantile  country  in  the  world.  The  Spaniards,  on 
the  contrary,  possess  an  army  and  fleet  whose  traditions  are 
ancient ;  they  possess  militia  and  naval  equipages  raised 
by  conscription,  generals  and  admirals  by  profession,  and  an 
ancient  reputation  for  national  valour. 

Might  we  not  reasonably  have  concluded  that  of  these  two 
nations  the  Americans  would  have  regarded  the  possibility  of 
imminent  war  with  terror,  and  the  Spaniards,  on  the  contrary, 
with  confidence  ?  But  this  was  not  the  case :  the  American 
people  calmly  faced  the  prospect  of  war  with  Spain.  To 
them  it  was  a  truly  cheerful  war.  During  three  years  a 
portion  of  the  American  people  watched  with  interest  the 
Cuban  insurrection  ;  they  openly  provided  the  insurgents 
with  gold,  iron,  and  dynamite ;  they  publicly  proclaimed 
that  Weyler  was  a  murderer  who  merited  the  gallows.  Who 
amongst  them  gave  a  thought  to  the  war  that  might  arise 
from  these  popular  and  diplomatic  interferences  in  the  great 
duel  ?  Doubtless,  in  this  common  courage,  in  this  species 
of  public  petulance,  there  was  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
light-mindedness  and  unconsciousness  of  a  people  who  did 
not  consider  all  that  war  might  imply,  and  who  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  led  away  by  their  feelings.  But,  however  rash 
was  the  attitude  of  the  people  towards  the  probability  of 
war,  in  any  case  it  was,  in  the  eyes  of  Europe,  one  of  the 
principal  forces  of  the  American  Government  in  dealing  with 


PEACE  AND    WAR  35 

the  Cuban  question.  With  practical  foresight  it  was  able  to 
combine  the  collective  courage  of  the  country,  preparing  their 
forces  for  the  inevitable  conflict,  and  declaring  war  as  soon 
as  these  forces  were  sufficient  to  assure  them  victory.  After 
this  they  showed  no  hesitation.  The  declaration  of  war  was 
made  with  calm  resolution  ;  and  if  it  was  not  generally 
considered  an  ordinary  act  of  the  national  policy,  neither 
was  it  looked  upon  as  particularly  alarming,  nor  as  the 
universal  calamity,  the  light  in  which  so  many  people 
in  the  more  ignorant  European  countries  regard  war,  that 
matribus  detestata.  Beyond  a  slight  burst  of  patriotic  ex- 
ultation, public  feeling  in  America  received  no  shock  at  the 
news  of  the  coming  war,  and  industry  in  no  way  interrupted 
its  indomitable  regularity  throughout  the  continent. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  war  against  the  insurgent  island, 
no  less  than  that  with  America,  was  a  fearful  calamity  for 
the  Spanish  people.  The  army  in  Cuba  was  composed,  for 
the  most  part,  of  wretched  peasants  sent  there  by  force, 
while  the  flower  of  the  educated  classes,  thanks  to  the  con- 
venient law  of  substitution,  remained  at  home  to  cheer  the 
departing  soldiers,  and  to  receive  on  their  return  these 
wretched  shadows  of  the  florid  youths  who  had  landed  on 
the  beautiful  but  accursed  island.  The  ardent  patriotism 
of  the  Spanish  upper  classes,  more  particularly  during  the 
Spanish- Ameiican  War,  proved  itself  to  be,  above  all  else, 
a  literary  and  oratorical  sentiment.  The  feud  between  the 
petty  parliamentary  cliques  never  ceased  ;  indeed,  they  rather 
grew  more  venomous.  Few  of  the  great  families  subsidized 
the  war,  and  there  was  presented  the  spectacle  of  a  European 
country  collecting  money,  by  means  of  theatre  and  corridas 
benefits,  to  carry  on  war  with  one  of  the  richest  nations  in 
the  world.  Very  few  upper-class  youths  took  part  in  the  war 


36  MILITARISM 

as  common  soldiers.     Workers  and  peasants  were  sent  to 
fight  in  the  ranks  of  the  non-graduated  soldiers — the  masses, 
in  short,  who  were  the  unwilling  instruments  of  this  bloody 
deed  so  repugnant  to  them,  not  so  much  on  account  of  their 
breadth  of  ideas,  as  owing  to  their  ingenuous  and  rude  egoism. 
They  were  mere  blind  instruments  whose  courage  was  only 
maintained  by  the  fear  of  punishment.     So  true  is  this,  that 
as  the  war   by  degrees  grew  fiercer   in  Cuba,  the  Spanish 
Government  was  compelled  to  intensify  the  reign  of  terror 
with  which   it   habitually  coerces    Spain  ;    to   multiply  the 
states  of  siege  ;    to  increase  the  power  of  the   police  ;    to 
imprison  pellmell,  and  under  the  most  diverse  pretexts,  all 
those  who  were  suspected  of  too  liberal  dispositions,  for  fear 
that  the  revolutionary  parties   might  succeed   in  rousing  to 
rebellion   the  masses  exasperated  by  the  enormous  tribute 
of  blood,  money,  and  suffering  demanded  of  them  by  the 
Spanish  Government.    The  final  consequence  of  the  Spanish- 
American  War  was  that  the  whole  of  Spain  was  placed  under 
martial  law,  a  proof  that  the  Government  counted  little  on 
the  concurrence  of  the  people  in  face  of  this  struggle  with 
the  enemy.     Indeed,  the  truth  is  that  a  large  portion  of  the 
population,   not    concerned    in    politics,   showed    great    in- 
difference to  the  outcome  of  the  war.     It  is  well  known  that 
the  inhabitants  of  Madrid  would  not  allow  the  corridas  to 
be  postponed  owing  to  the  news  of  the  battles  of  Cavite 
and  Santiago  ;  and  whilst  far  away  their  brothers  were  being 
massacred  they  continued  their  dissipations. 


VI 

Thus  we  see  war  conducted  cheerfully  on  one  hand,  sadly 
on  the  other  ;    and  this  not  merely  due  to  the   difference 


PEACE  AND    WAR  37 

between  easy  and  difficult  warfare.  The  mercantile  American 
Government,  composed  entirely  of  bourgeoisie,  presided  over 
by  a  former  tradesman,  knew  how  to  prepare  for  conflict,  to 
measure  the  forces  necessary,  and  to  deal  the  blow  with 
certainty  at  the  proper  moment.  That  their  adversaries  were 
very  poor  and  the  American  very  rich  detracts  in  no  wise 
from  their  merit,  since  eight  years  ago  they  were  still  weaker, 
and  possessed  no  naval  force.  Moreover,  it  does  not  suffice  for 
a  nation  to  own  riches ;  it  must  know  how  to  spend  money 
well,  and  to  prepare  itself  properly  and  seriously  for  war. 
The  Spanish  Government,  on  the  contrary,  which  still  has 
military  character  and  tradition,  and  which,  in  spite  of  the 
country's  poverty,  spent  during  the  last  three  years  several 
milliard  dollars  on  the  attempted  suppression  of  the  Cuban 
insurrection,  was  unable  to  quell  the  uprising.  It  then 
engaged  in  combat  with  the  United  States  when  totally 
unprepared.  Hence  America  was  able  to  destroy  two 
Spanish  fleets,  with  small  loss  of  men  on  her  side,  and  to 
conquer  Cuba,  defended  by  200,000  soldiers,  by  landing  there 
little  over  20,000  men,  after  a  somewhat  haphazard  assault  on 
Santiago. 

This  unreadiness  was,  indeed,  at  the  bottom  of  all  the 
Spanish  misfortunes.  The  Cuban  rebels,  as  to  whose  number 
various  writers  differ,  were,  at  the  outside,  calculated  at  some 
40,000  ;  only  a  certain  number  were  armed  with  guns,  whilst 
the  majority  possessed  only  common  knives.  They  had 
little  ammunition  or  money,  and  what  they  had  reached  them 
from  America,  across  the  line  of  the  maritime  blockade. 
Consequently  they  never  attacked  the  enemy  resolutely,  but 
merely  wore  it  out  with  little  skirmishes.  Against  these  poorly 
armed  bands  the  Spaniards  sent  in  various  relays  200,000 
men,  the  greatest  army  that  ever  crossed  the  Atlantic,  an 


38  MILITARISM 

army  led  by  generals  educated  in  European  schools,  with  the 
open  sea  behind  it,  and  a  Government  which  could  obtain 
loans  of  millions  of  pounds  from  European  bankers.  How 
was  it,  then,  that  after  three  years  the  insurrection  was  still 
so  little  subdued  that  bands  of  rebels  marauded  in  safety  only 
a  few  miles  from  Havana?  Unfortunately  for  Spain,  her 
army  consisted  merely  of  armed  and  uniformed  soldiers — if, 
indeed,  they  all  possessed  arms  and  uniforms — but  the  other 
apparatus  necessary  nowadays  to  an  army  were  lacking  : 
waggons,  beasts  of  burden,  provisions,  ambulances.  The 
result  was  that  the  soldiers  could  not  leave  the  towns  to 
defend  the  country  for  more  than  two  or  three  days  at  a 
stretch,  without  the  risk  of  dying  of  hunger  or  remaining 
without  ammunition,  so  that  all  the  reinforcements  sent  to 
Cuba  were  in  the  way  rather  than  being  of  service.  They 
were  distributed  in  the  towns  and  fortresses  throughout  the 
island,  but  they  remained  there  idle,  whilst  the  insurgents 
became  masters  of  the  country.  For  this  reason  the  Spanish 
Government  at  last  resorted  to  the  cruel  tactics  of  General 
Weyler,  of  reducing  the  rebels  by  famine,  by  devastating  the 
country,  thus  compelling  them  to  collect  in  the  towns,  to  die 
there  of  hunger,  leaving  the  land  uncultivated  around  them. 
Then,  when  General  Shafter  laid  siege  to  Santiago,  it  was 
several  times  announced  that  a  body  of  militia  commanded 
by  General  Pandos  was  to  come  from  Havana  to  the  assist- 
ance of  the  besieged  at  Santiago  ;  and,  indeed,  it  appears 
strange  that  while  200,000  soldiers  were  on  the  island, 
Santiago  should  have  been  left  to  be  conquered  by  the  small 
American  army.  But  the  fact  was  that  the  Spaniards, 
through  lack  of  all  the  apparatus  necessary  to  an  army  with 
long  country  marches  before  it,  had  no  means  of  overland 
communication  between  the  various  Cuban  towns,  but  could 


PEACE  AND    WAR  39 

only  communicate  by  sea,  so  that  from  the  moment  that  the 
Americans  were  masters  of  the  coast,  the  great  naval  towns 
were  quite  cut  off  from  aid.  If  the  Spanish  Government  had 
equipped  an  army  of  40,000  men  for  Cuba,  provided  with  all 
the  necessaries  for  a  modern  army,  so  that,  divided  in  columns, 
they  could  leave  the  towns  and  fortresses  and  hold  the  country 
for  miles  together  ;  if  this  army  had  attacked  the  rebels,  the 
insurrection  would  have  been  quelled  in  a  few  months,  with 
small  loss  of  blood  and  at  infinitely  smaller  expense. 


v 

But  why  was  not  Spain  capable  of  organizing  such  an 


army,  whilst  the  United  States,  so  far  poorer  in  military 
tradition,  were  able  to  create  a  fleet  in  a  few  years  capable  of  S* 
all  that  was  required  of  it  ?  The  cause  of  this  must  be  sought 
for  in  the  character  of  the  two  Governments  and  the  two 
nations,  in  the  moral  strength  of  the  one  and  the  moral 
weakness  of  the  other.  The  Spanish  Government  is  a  slave 
of  routine^  little  capable  of  reforming  its  institutions,  even  in  | 
face  of  grave  and  imminent  danger  ;  because  it  is  led  by  a  selfish 
oligarchy,  outside  of  which,  as  we  have  shown,  there  exists 
only  a  miserable  and  oppressed  multitude  who  are  its  victims, 
and  not  an  intelligent  and  educated  bourgeoisie  capable  of 
opposing  it  ;  because  its  administration  is  narrow,  and  chosen, 
not  in  the  interests  of  the  good  government  of  its  country, 
but  with  a  view  to  finding  employment  for  the  prottges  of 
politicians,  and  of  providing  in  some  manner  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  middle  classes.  This  results  in  a  lack  of 
any  proper  control  over  public  opinion,  which  can  only  be 
exercised  by  educated  and  intelligent  people  ;  and  in  public 
offices  not  being  given  to  those  who  deserve  them,  but  to 
toadies  to  those  in  power  ;  and  finally,  in  the  Government  not 
acting  for  the  public  good,  but  in  the  hopes  of  pleasing  this 
or  that  portion  of  the  reigning  oligarchy.  Under  such 


40  MILITARISM 

circumstances  the  ministers  lose  the  faculty  of  making  any 
serious  reform,  and  the  Spanish  ministry  showed  itself  quite 
incapable  of  warfare.  A  year's  serious  labour  would  have 
been  necessary  to  organize  a  proper  Cuban  army.  But  with 
a  set  of  officials  whose  appointment  was  due  rather  to  the 
intrigue  of  politicians  than  to  their  own  merits— directed  by 
old  men,  jealous  of  one  another,  who  had  raised  themselves 
by  intrigue,  and  were  only  anxious  not  to  allow  themselves 
to  be  outdone  by  the  intrigues  of  rivals,  not  unfrequently 
corrupt  and  bowed  down  under  the  weight  of  prejudices — what 
ministry  could  pass  any  serious  or  important  measures  of 
reform  ?  A  sense  of  the  futility  of  making  any  attempt 
disarmed  the  most  resolute,  and  every  one  trusted  blindly 
to  chance.  Besides  this,  it  appears  that  several  shipping 
companies  and  other  large  firms  made  a  lucrative  thing  out 
of  the  transport  of  soldiers  to  Cuba,  so  that  it  was  to  their 
interests  that  great  numbers  should  be  sent  there,  as  it  was 
also  to  the  interests  of  the  officers,  for  thus  they  went  in 
larger  numbers  to  Cuba,  where  there  was  little  fighting  to 
be  done  and  much  to  be  gained.  These  companies,  having 
great  weight  with  the  Government,  urged  it  to  multiply  the 
transports  of  soldiers,  ruining  thereby  the  public  treasury,  and 
making  greater  confusion  in  Cuba,  but  enriching  themselves 
• — a  monstrous  iniquity  deserving  of  heavy  punishment,  but 
which  was  committed  with  impunity  in  Spain  in  the  midst 
of  universal  indifference,  because  justice  lay  dormant,  and 
because  those  who,  through  wealth  or  education,  were  in 
a  position  to  direct  the  moral  conscience  of  the  country,  and 
to  prevent  such  scandals,  were  all  attached  to  the  Govern- 
ment, and  therefore  interested  in  encouraging,  or  compelled 
to  tolerate  in  silence,  these  abominable  crimes  against  their 
native  land. 


PEACE  AND    WAR  41 

In  the  United  States,  on  the  contrary,  the  Government  is 
.  not   the  sole  representative  of  all    that  is  strong  in   talent, 
culture,  or  wealth  in  American  society.     Public  functionaries, 
and  those  concerned  in  politics,  represent  only  a  portion  of 
the  educated  classes,  and  they  have  no  decided  superiority 
over  the  rest.     The  officials,  moreover,  do  not  consider  their 
posts  as  a  mere  sinecure,  enabling  them  to  live  permanently 
on  the   Treasury,  without   anxiety   for   the  morrow.     They 
are  for  the  most  part  men  who  carry  on  their  business  like 
any  other  business,  who  go  on  with  it  as  long  as  it  is  to 
their  interest,  and  give  it   up  when   they  think   they  could 
do  better  elsewhere.     Thus  the  Government  knows  that  it  is 
subject  to  the  criticism  of  the  country  ;  that  it  has  to  deal 
with  energetic  opposition  ;  and  that,  if  the  nation  is  willing  to 
put  up  with  many  shortcomings  in  the  administration  because 
they  cause   it   no  great   inconvenience  and  would   take  too 
much  time  to  set  to  rights,  it  does  not  concede  to  the  Govern- 
ment absolute  impunity.     Wherefore   a   Government  which 
should  engage  in  a  war  without  having  made  sufficient  pre- 
paration would  meet  with  condign  punishment  in  universal 
disapproval.     Besides   this,  that   pride   to  succeed   in  every 
undertaking,  which  a  free  and  adventurous  life  develops  in 
every  American,  also  assists  the  statesmen.     It  pledges  their 
amour  propre,  and  makes  them  deliberate  ;  while  their  Spanish 
confrhes>  used  only  to  looking  after  their  own  interests  and 
those  of  their  friends,  remain  indifferent   to   the  results   of 
their  politics  so  long  as  they  do  not  themselves  have  to  pay 
for  it,  knowing  full  well  that  no  one  will  demand  of  them 
too  exact  an  account  of  their  failures.     Lastly,  the  instability 
of  American  official  appointments  renders  it  possible  for  the 
Government,  when  it  wishes  an  administration  to  do  some 
given  work,  such  as  organizing  a  fleet  or  preparing  for  war, 


42  MILITARISM 

to  seek  and  find  the  men  capable  of  doing  ft  well — men  who 
are  also  stimulated  by  the  ambition  common  to  Americans 
to  show  off  their  own  worth.  Hence  it  was  possible  for  the 
American  Government  to  provide  a  fleet  at  brief  notice  and 
at  a  small  cost ;  and  impossible  for  Spain,  at  the  expense  of 
thousands,  to  get  together  an  army. 

The  Spanish- American  War  was  of  such  brief  duration  that 
the  United  States  only  needed  their  fleet  and  their  small 
army  :  both  of  them  composed  of  professional  soldiers  not 
raised  by  conscription.  The  volunteers — that  is,  the  nation 
itself  in  arms — had  not  time  to  enter  on  action,  except  in  very 
small  bodies.  Is  it  to  be  believed  that  if  the  Americans  had 
had  to  rely  entirely  on  their  volunteer  army,  they  would  have 
been  beaten  by  the  Spanish  regiments  raised  by  conscription 
and  educated  in  barracks  ?  Would  the  old  European  mili- 
tary organization  have  conquered  the  disorganized  American 
energies  ? 

It  is  always  difficult,  and  indeed  vain,  to  attempt  resolving 
hypothetical  historical  problems.  In  any  case,  it  seems  to 
me  that  any  one  a  little  familiar  with  the  psychology  of  war 
would  doubt  whether  the  Spaniards  would  have  had  better 
fortune  in  dealing  with  a  land  army  than  with  the  fleets 
at  sea. 


VII 

To  let  0116*8  self  be  killed  is  not  pleasant  in  itself:  we 
cannot  succeed  in  dominating,  by  a  simple  effort  of  will,  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation.  Certainly,  in  a  hand-to-hand 
conflict  between  soldiers  inflamed  by  passion,  by  cries, 
volleys  of  shot,  and  all  the  frantic  excitement,  a  man  may  be 
carried  away  by  a  species  of  violent  intoxication,  under  the 


PEACE  AND    WAR  43 

sway  of  which  he  may  even  find  pleasure  in  feeling  his  flesh 
lacerated  and  cut,  and  in  the  sensation  of  being  bathed  in  his 
own  blood.  All  spiritual  exaltations  combine  pleasure  and 
pain,  confounding  them  together  in  that  convulsed  state  of 
feeling  which  makes  of  pain  a  pleasure. 

But  a  war  does  not  consist  solely  in  these  brief  moments 
of  supreme  exaltations  ;  the  real  bitterness  of  a  war  is  not 
in  the  desperate  tension  of  muscle  and  courage  required  of 
a  soldier  at  the  decisive  point  of  a  battle — efforts  almost 
invariably  rendered  easy  by  the  state  of  mind  in  which 
he  finds  himself  at  such  a  moment.  The  real  hardships  of 
war  consist  in  the  long  marches,  in  the  long  spells  of  hunger 
and  thirst  to  be  suffered,  in  the  nights  passed  sleeping  in  the 
mud  under  the  pouring  rain,  in  the  illnesses  to  be  borne  with- 
out doctors  or  medicines,  in  the  discouragement  at  feeling 
one's  self  no  longer  master  of  one's  own  destiny,  stripped  of  all 
human  worth,  deprived  of  the  absolute  and  unconditional 
right  to  live.  They  consist,  above  all,  in  the  fear  which  seizes 
all,  even  the  bravest,  the  first  time  they  find  themselves 
face  to  face  with  the  firing,  and  in  the  unexpected  outbreaks 
of  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  which  instinct  in  the  best 
soldiers  is  like  that  of  a  capricious  horse.  He  remains  quiet 
and  docile,  restrained  by  a  strong  will,  in  the  face  of  tremen- 
dous perils,  and  then,  of  a  sudden,  confronted  often  by  some 
slight  danger,  breaks  bounds  and  takes  to  flight.  The  real 
hardship  of  war,  in  a  word,  is  in  the  effort  of  will  a  soldier 
must  make  to  fulfil  his  duty  ;  for  to  the  humble  foot-soldier, 
who  has  no  responsibility  of  command,  fighting  is  only  an 
exercise  of  will.  The  impulsive  faculties  count  for  little  in 
war,  everything  has  to  be  willed  :  resistance  to  fatigue,  courage, 
indifference  to  death. 

Thus,  as  resolution  is  one  of  those  faculties  of  the  mind 


44  MILITARISM 

most  capable  of  education,  if  we  except  a  few  criminals  and 
maniacs  in  whom  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  is  obtuse 
by  nature,  there  are  no  born  heroes ;  intrepid  soldiers  are 
not  born,  they  become  what  they  are  by  an  effort  of  will. 
Man  is  born  as  cowardly  as  he  is  born  naked  ;  the  soldier 
who  succeeds  in  annihilating  in  himself  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  is  an  artificial  creation  of  society,  just  as  a 
dressed-up  man  is  an  artificial  being  for  whose  creation 
many  different  means  have  been  adopted  in  different  ages 
and  communities. 

One  means  was  that  adopted  in  the  armies  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  in  which  Napoleon  placed  great  faith :  of 
accustoming  soldiers  to  danger  by  practice.  This  system, 
however,  can  no  longer  be  applied  in  civilized  countries,  for 
wars  have  become  such  rare  events  that  a  man  is  seldom 
called  upon  to  fight  more  than  once.  Another  method  is 
that  of  exalting  the  spirit  of  soldiers  by  some  savage  passion, 
some  fanaticism  which  drowns  the  instinct  of  self-preserva- 
tion :  this  is  the  method  which  has  met  with  such  success  in 
the  Turkish  army,  but  which  succeeds  only  with  a  barbarous 
race,  because  civilization  signifies  reason  and  moderation  in 
all  things.  The  third  system  is  that  attempted  by  the 
Spanish  Government  with  its  Cuban  army :  that  of  placing 
them  between  two  dangers,  of  which  war  is  the  lesser,  and  of 
keeping  up  their  failing  courage  with  the  fear  of  punishment 
and  the  threat  of  the  penal  code  for  deserters  and  cowards. 

By  one  or  other  of  these  three  systems  have  been  recruited 
and  organized  nearly  all  the  armies  which  have  ever  fought 
hitherto,  with  good  or  ill  luck ;  and  this  is  easily  explained 
when  we  reflect  that  neither  of  these  systems  demands 
much  spiritual  finesse  in  the  human  material  to  which  it 
is  applied.  From  the  most  barbarous  tribe  of  shepherds, 


PEACE  AND    WAR  45 

and  the  rudest  peasantry  in  the  world,  an  army  can  be 
formed  by  one  or  other  of  these  systems.  Thus  the  Roman 
empire  recruited  from  amongst  the  uncivilized  populations 
in  its  domains  the  best  support  of  its  decadent  age  ;  thus 
the  feudal  Russia  of  Alexander  I.  gathered  from  its  rude 
serfs  and  mujics  the  armies  which  destroyed  Napoleon's 
troops ;  it  was  thus  that  modern  Turkey  furnished,  from 
among  the  most  wretched  Mussulman  peasantry  of  Anatolia 
and  Syria,  the  battalions  which  caused  such  confusion  to 
the  Russians  at  Plevna.  And  even  in  the  legions  of  Napo- 
leon I.  were  not  ignorance  and  coarseness  considered  as  the 
distinctive  qualities  of  authentic  soldiers,  the  sign  of  their 
superiority  over  the  bourgeoisie  ? 

But  another  means— much  less  common  and  more  modern  — 
by  which  a  people  can  find  the  strength  to  face  a  great  crisis  in 
war  is  this  :  that  at  least  its  larger  portion  lives  normally  under 
such  good  material,  moral,  and  intellectual  conditions,  that  it 
can  rapidly  adapt  itself  to  the  situation  of  war  by  a  con- 
scious effort  of  will  directed  by  a  moral  motive.  As  Gaetano 
Mosca  aptly  observes  : l  "  War,  like  any  other  dangerous  trade, 
requires  a  certain  degree  of  habit  to  be  faced  with  calm  and 
sang-froid ;  when  this  habit  is  lacking  it  can  only  be  replaced 
either  by  those  moments  of  orgasm  which  occur  rarely  in  the 
life  of  nations,  or  by  that  sentiment  of  honour  and  duty  which 
in  a  small  and  select  class  can  be  roused  and  maintained  by 
special  education." 

How  did  it  happen,  in  the  American  War  of  1861-65,  that 
the  armies  collected  in  the  Northern  States — so  disorganized, 
unbalanced,  undisciplined,  and  liable  to  the  panics  of  first 
battles — were  transformed  rapidly  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months  into  armies  so  formidable  for  courage,  discipline,  and 

1  Q.  Mosca,  "Elements  of  Political  Science,"  p.  281  (Turin,  1896). 


46  MILITARISM 

heroic  resolution  ?  Hardly  one  of  those  agriculturists,  workers, 
merchants,  advocates,  and  brokers  who  fought  in  the  rival 
armies — especially  the  Northern — knew  what  war  meant  either 
in  theory  or  practice  ;  and  yet,  at  its  termination,  all  military 
critics  were  forced  to  confess  that  the  ability  of  the  heads 
vied  with  the  courage  and  resolution  of  the  soldiers.  What 
force  performed  this  miracle?  Neither  fear  nor  habit;  the 
one  was  out  of  the  question,  for  the  other  there  was  not  time. 
Thus,  more  especially,  the  Northern  States  would  have  failed 
to  create  any  army  at  all  if  their  citizens  had  not  been 
excellent  raw  material,  easily  transformable  into  good  soldiers. 
Already,  in  the  year  1848,  President  Polk  had  observed,  gran- 
diloquently but  with  considerable  insight,  the  excellence  of  the 
material.  "  Our  citizen  soldiers,"  he  wrote  in  a  December 
despatch,  "are  quite  absolutely  different  from  those  drawn 
from  the  population  of  the  Southern  States.  They  count  in 
their  ranks  men  of  all  professions  and  trades :  farmers, 
lawyers,  doctors,  merchants,  manufacturers,  workmen  ;  not 
only  among  the  officers,  but  even  in  the  ranks.  From  their 
earliest  youth  they  have  been  used  to  handling  firearms  ; 
many  of  them  are  excellent  shots.  They  are  men  with 
reputations  to  be  preserved  by  means  of  good  conduct  during 
campaigns.  They  are  intelligent,  and  they  are  developing  an 
individuality  to  be  found  in  no  other  army.  In  battle,  every 
soldier,  no  less  than  every  officer,  fights  for  his  country,  and  at 
the  same  time  with  the  object  of  obtaining  glory  and  distinc- 
tion among  his  fellow-citizens  the  day  he  returns  to  civil  life." 
Raw  material,  but  capable  of  being  moulded  in  the  War 
of  Independence,  more  especially  because  the  more  select 
portion  of  the  army  was  composed  of  educated  and  well-to-do 
men  who  till  then  had  attended  to  their  own  business,  and 
who,  failing  other  higher  sentiments,  were  at  least  sustained 


PEACE  AND    WAR  47 

by  the  pride  of  showing  themselves  in  no  wise  inferior  to 
what  was  considered  to  be  their  worth  ;  who,  with  a  conscious 
effort  of  will,  influenced  by  diverse  ethical  sentiments, 
succeeded  in  becoming  good  soldiers  in  a  short  time,  princi- 
pally by  contracting  habits  of  discipline,  and  dominating  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation. 

Is  it  rash  to  suppose  that  an  army  like  the  Spanish,  composed 
of  ignorant  and  indifferent  soldiers,  righting  only  out  of  fear 
of  the  punishments  with  which  the  military  code  threatened 
deserters,  could  not  hold  out  long  against  an  army  of  better 
educated   soldiers,    resolved   to  do   their   duty,  through  the  . 
pride  of  men  who  will  not  admit  in  themselves  the  weaknesses  ] 
of  hesitation  or  fear  ?     Thus  we  are  led,  by  another  route,  to 
the  same  conclusion  which  is  the  leit-motif  of  this  study,  that  / 
in  order  to  prevent  the  rich  and  educated  classes  of  a  nation  I 
from  becoming  so  selfish  by  reason  of  their  wealth  and  culture  j 
as  to  make  use  of  their  power  to  exempt  themselves  from  the  \ 
fatigue  and  perils  of  war,  and  to  palm  it  off  on  the  ignorant     } 
and   poor  —  as   happened  in    Spain  —  and  to   make   a   profit 
out  of  the  ruin  of  their  country  ;  that  in  order  to  preserve  at 
least  an  Mite  class,  who  will  take  part  in  war  without  thought 
to  personal  gain,    putting  all  their   energy  into   the  under- 
taking, thus  diminishing  its  risk  and  fatigues  ;  —  that  society 
must  be   governed  with  a  certain  degree  of  justice,  and  be 
founded  on  principles  of  liberty,  not  of  protection.     Where 
a  Government  is  unjust,  and  the  upper  classes  who  enjoy  ^ 
the  fruits  of  injustice  are  selfish,  the  more  selfish  they  are 
and  the  less  capable  of  that  plasticity  by  which  in  certain 
moving   times   a  strong  soldiery   can  be  moulded  out  of  a 
quiet    bourgeoisie,    there    also    the    army   is    composed    of  \/ 
indifferent  soldiers,  disciplined  by  fear. 


48  MILITARISM 


VIII 

\  The  Spanish- American  War,  then,  terminated  in  victory  for 
*  the  people  governed  with  the  least  injustice ;  whether  this 
was  due  to  its  own  merit  or  chance,  it  matters  little.  This 
war  will  result  in  the  final  pacification  of  the  Antilles  and  the 
Philippines,  and  relieve  Spain  at  the  same  time  from  the 
enormous  military  expense  which  their  occupation  cost  her. 
The  Spanish  Government,  which  by  its  stupidity  and  tardiness 
showed  itself  so  unfit  to  go  through  with  the  Cuban  War, 
nevertheless  kept  stirring  up  conflicts  in  Cuba  and  the 
Philippines  by  means  of  rapacious,  indolent,  and  unjust  rule, 
to  which  its  military  incapacity  was  principally  attributable. 
For  the  past  fifty  years  insurrections  have  been  periodical 
occurrences  in  the  two  colonies,  and  it  has  been  beyond  the 
power  of  the  Spanish  Government  to  restore  peace  ;  indeed, 
the  military  ferocity  of  its  repression  merely  kept  pouring 
y  oil  on  the  conflagration.  What  fearful  figures  would  be 
reached  if  we  reckoned  up  all  the  men  who  have  perished  in 
this  long  and  terrible  war! 

The  intervention  of  a  more  civilized,  and  less  military  and 
bellicose  Government,  has  extinguished  the  long-smoulder- 
ing fire,  and  from  henceforward  both  the  Antilles  and  the 
Philippines  will  obtain  a  regular  administration  that  will  allow 
of  the  natives  living  peaceably  without  being  in  a  constant 
state  of  insurrection.  It  is  not  difficult,  therefore,  to  understand 
how  the  work  of  pacification  was  accomplished,  and  how  the 
victory  of  a  juster  Government  has  for  a  long  time  liberated 
that  corner  of  the  earth  from  the  sufferings  of  war. 

Now,  this  leads  to  the  reflection  that  if  the  happy  termina- 
tion of  the  conflict,  which  had  for  so  long  stained  Spain  and 


PEACE  AND.  WAR  49 

her  colonies  with  blood,  by  the  victorious  intervention  of  a 
more  civilized  and  peace-insuring  state  between  the  two 
enemies  who  had  been  so  long  at  war  without  either  of  them 
vanquishing  the  other ;  if  this  were  not  an  accidental  and 
solitary  incident,  which  occurred  once  far  away  in  the 
Atlantic,  but  an  incident  which  repeats  itself  through  history,  ' 
in  all  places  and  ages,  under  one  form  or  another  ;  if,  in  short, 
it  was  a  law  of  social  life,  could  we  understand  then  how  the 
great  war-tempests  which  fill  history  are  by  degrees  melting 
away  into  a  long  period  of  peace  ?  The  history  of  the  world 

would  then  follow  this  course  :  many  societies,  owing  to  their 

\i 

vicious  constitution,  would  be  led  to  an  indefinite  succession 
of  wars,  injuring  each  other  in  turn  without  coming  to  any 
conclusion  ;  until  one  or  more  states,  better  or  more  justly 
organized,  should  interpose  and  introduce  at  the  same  time  a 
theoretically  and  practically  superior  Government.  This  equili- 
brium might  ultimately  be  disturbed  by  defects  and  vices 
inherent  in  itself,  and  then  would  return  another  long  epoch 
of  war,  destined  itself  also  to  be  finally  resolved  into  peace. 

If,  moreover,  it  were  possible  to  demonstrate  that  the 
civilization  of  the  Christian  nations  of  Europe  and  America 
were  approaching  this  phase  of  pacific  equilibrium ;  that 
there  is  a  general  truth,  which  the  particular  case  of  the 
Spanish-American  War  has  confirmed — -viz.  that  the  countries 
which  are  superior  to  others  in  everything,  war  included,  are 
the  most  peaceful,  whilst  those  in  which  warlike  traditions 
are  greater,  are  decaying — it  would  then  be  proved  that  this 
desire  for  peace  is  not  merely  the  idyllic  dream  of  a  world  of 
shepherds,  lambs,  nymphs,  and  other  similar  Theocretan  and 
Virgilian  vapourings,  a  world  in  which  men  would  be  free 
from  the  pain  of  wounds  and  the  perils  of  violent  death. 
This  would  be  too  small  and  miserable  a  thing,  born  of  the 

D 


5O  MILITARISM 

petty  psychological  illusion  that  the  physical  pain  of  wounds 
and  death  are  the  greatest  misfortunes.  Abolish  wars,  or 
multiply  them  as  you  like,  life  will  still  remain  full  of  bitter- 
ness ;  alter  customs,  and  the  physical  sufferings  of  violence 
between  men  and  nations  will  be  replaced  by  the  moral 
suffering  of  those  wide  contrasts  of  interests,  passions,  and 
ideas.  If  the  numberless  ills  with  which  humanity  is  afflicted 
are  each  considered  separately,  with  reference  to  the  sub- 
jective suffering  they  inflict  on  individuals,  and  not  in 
reference  to  their  diverse  final  influence  in  the  eternal  game 
of  life,  who  will  not  affirm  that  physical  torments  are  perhaps 
more  tolerable  than  moral  ones  ?  that  a  dagger-thrust,  which 
kills  in  an  instant,  is  not  almost  sweet  in  contrast  to  a  delusion 
which  slowly  consumes  the  soul  ?  The  nineteenth  century  has 
seen  an  increase  in  suicides,  madness,  and  morbid  maladies  ; 
in  the  injuries  and  deaths  in  what  are  called  the  bloody  battles 
of  labour  and  civilization,  and  which,  though  they  are  blood- 
less in  the  material  sense  of  the  word,  are  not  for  that 
less  lamentable  than  those  fought  with  gun  and  cannon. 

The  modern  significance  of  peace  is  therefore  something 
greater  ;  it  is  an  advance  towards  justice,  a  desire  for  more 
liberal  and  equitable,  wiser  and  less  tyrannical  government. 
The  apostle  of  peace  thus  becomes  one  of  the  instruments 
by  which  a  great  change  in  the  internal  structure  of  society 
is  being  accomplished,  which  in  certain  countries  has  greatly 
advanced,  and  in  others  has  scarcely  commenced — a  change 
in  which  the  real  glory  of  the  nineteenth  century  consists,  and 
which  rapidly  tends  to  strengthen  justice  in  life.  Through- 
out the  whole  world  there  is  a  slow  progress  of  moral  ideas 
which  corresponds  to  a  great  transformation  in  all  Asocial 
relations,  from  the  relation  between  the  production  and  dis- 
tribution of  riches  to  the  relation  between  men  belonging  to 


PEACE  AND    WAR  51 

diverse  religious  sects — a  moral  movement  which  tends  to 
express  the  ideal  of  life  in  this  formula  :    "  To  be  neither  */ 
coward  nor  bully."     The  peace  movement,  if  the  foregoing 
suppositions  are  correct,  is  one  of  the  phases  of  the  general 
progress  towards  liberty  and  justice  in  modern  life. 

The  object  of  this  book  is  to  prove  the  truth  of  this  his- 
torical law,   and  to  show  that  the  actual  condition  of  the  A 
world   is   such  that  these  things  really  signify  the   present 
desire  for  peace. 


HORDES,   OR    THE    ORIGIN 
OF    WAR 


CHAPTER  II 
HORDES,   OR  THE  ORIGIN   OF  WAR 

I 

WHAT  was  war  originally  ?  The  briefest  and  most  com- 
prehensive definition  of  its  essence,  to  my  mind,  is  the  follow- 
ing :  "  War,  in  the  beginning,  was  an  erroneous  solution, 
given  by  nearly  all  the  different  branches  of  the  human  race, 
to  the  problem  of  individual  happiness." 

War  took  birth  in  a  primitive  and  violent  exaltation 
of  the  desire  for  emotion.  The  most  elementary  and  vital 
principle  in  the  human  mind  is  the  desire  to  live.  But  life 
does  not  merely  consist  in  opening  one's  eyes  at  sunrise  and 
shutting  them  again  when  darkness  supervenes  ;  life  consists 
in  strongly  feeling  our  own  being  in  all  we  perceive,  feel, 
will,  and  think.  No  man  feels  himself  alive  except  in  the 
intimate  workings  of  his  own  personality,  that  immortal  flame 
of  the  inner  life  which  at  times  flickers  and  almost  expires, 
and  then  reasserts  itself  more  brilliantly.  Thus  in  the 
moments  when  it  is  most  animated,  when  the  activities 
of  the  conscience  are  more  numerous  and  intense,  man  feels 
himself  more  alive,  and  therefore,  Spinoza  would  perhaps 
too  rashly  conclude,  happier.  Sensations,  sentiments,  desires, 
thoughts,  even  those  that  of  average  intensity  continually 
stimulate  the  human  mind,  without  intermission  feed  the 
fire  of  self,  and  sink  into  it,  as  innumerable  fragments  of 


56  MILITARISM 

matter  feed  the  fire  of  the  sun.  Not  merely  for  the  amuse- 
ment and  sterile  pleasure  of  man,  but  to  foster  the  circulation 
of  a  marvellous  vital  process,  does  the  elation  of  self,  produced 
by  the  conscience,  excite  a  new  and  acute  thirst  for  sensations, 
sentiments,  desires,  and  thoughts  which  in  their  turn  serve  as 
stimulators ;  and  thus  everything  acts  on  man  and  exalts  his 
individuality,  and  he,  thus  stimulated,  reacts  by  circumstances 
with  redoubled  energy.  Such  is  the  normal  and  average  life, 
to  escape  from  which  man  is  urged  by  a  fierce  longing  for 
happiness,  which,  to  a  healthy  and  vigorous  person  consists, 
at  least  in  part,  in  those  moments  of  intense  feeling  which 
excite  in  him  unusually  strong  and  energetic  thoughts  and 
sentiments,  and  kindle  the  inner  flame  of  self,  as  a  breath 
kindles  the  embers  which  appeared  half  extinguished  under 
a  thin  layer  of  ashes.  Thus  the  desire  for  life  excites  in  men 
an  insatiable  avidity  for  emotions,  which,  by  reason  of  their 
great  intensity,  augment  the  normal  sum  of  life. 

Innumerable  are  the  ways  by  which  man  satisfies  this 
longing  to  augment  the  sum  of  his  life.  They  may  be 
arranged  in  an  ascending  scale,  according  as  their  nature  is 
sensual  or  ideal,  according  as  they  demand  a  greater  or  lesser 
effort  of  will.  The  rudest  and  simplest  emotion  is  that  which 
can  be  obtained  from  inebriation,  from  violent  and  disorderly 
bodily  exercise,  and  from  very  intense  sensations.  A  good 
dose  of  haschish  or  alcohol,  a  wild  dance,  impetuous  music, 
create  a  passing  but  intense  spiritual  exaltation  in  which  man 
feels,  thinks,  desires,  and  therefore  lives  more  intensely  than 
under  ordinary  conditions.  This  is  why  civilized  men  are  so 
fond  of  all  those  stimulants  which,  without  trouble,  help  him 
to  augment  the  sum  of  life  he  is  capable  of  living.  Another 
means  of  satisfying  the  thirst  for  sensation,  and  which 
demands  ,a  certain  effort  of  will  and  thought,  is  love  ; 


HORDES,    OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  57 

because  the  moral  and  physical  satisfaction  it  yields  exalt 
the  spirit  and  multiply  the  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral 
energy  of  man  and  woman.  The  great  collective  passions, 
such  as  patriotism  and  religious  ardour  or  fanaticism,  belong 
to  a  more  abstract  order,  and  demand  a  much  greater 
spiritual  effort;  and  yet  higher  are  the  intellectual  and 
sesthetical  passions,  that  arise  in  a  great  measure  from  the 
desire  for  emotions  and  sensations  which  excite  the  mind. 

But  the  most  abstract  manner  of  satisfying  this  passion  for 
intenser  life,  and  one  which  demands  the  greatest  effort — in  the 
majority  of  cases,  at  least — is  to  aim  at_superiority  over  other 
men  and  things.  The  knowledge  of  one's  own  capacity  to 
overcome  obstacles  gives  the  highest  of  all  spiritual  exalta- 
tions, because  the  force  of  one's  own  being  is  felt  stronger  in 
contrast  to  other  conquered  forces,  whether  human  or  brutish. 
Life,  then,  in  its  highest  form  consists  in  an  effort  to  assert 
one's  own  superiority  over  men  and  things.  In  the  majority 
of  men,  however,  this  desire  for  life  is  mediocre,  and  easily 
satisfied  by  slight  efforts  of  will  and  thought.  But  in  all 
countries  and  in  all  ages  there  has  existed  a  small  minority 
of  men  in  whom  this  desire  was  a  violent  passion,  who 
wished  to  live  a  life  more  than  humanly  intense,  almost,  I 
might  say,  the  life  of  several  men  ;  and  who,  as  other  men 
suffer  from  the  thirst  for  love,  suffered  from  a  desire  to  exalt 
supremely  their  own  being,  and  to  place  themselves  above 
the  level  of  other  men. 

The  few  human  groups,  and  the  rare  epochs  in  which  such 
men  were  lacking,  have  no  history  ;  because  wars,  revolutions, 
colonial  adventures,  the  innumerable  events  of  private  life, 
religions,  sects,  philosophies,  the  fine  arts  and  the  sciences,  all 
originated  in  the  sublime  discontent  of  these  small  minorities 
who  longed  for  unmeasured  lives.  These  were  as  the  yeast 


58  MILITARISM 

which  ferments  the  soppy  and  somewhat  insipid  dough  of 
which  humanity  is  composed  ;  fermentation  thus  setting  in 
rapidly  or  slowly,  succeeding  or  not  succeeding,  according 
as  the  yeast  suited  the  dough  and  the  conditions  of  the 
surrounding  atmosphere. 

The  manner  in  which  the  greater  number  of  these  men 
satisfied  their  thirst  for  life  was  in  the  conquest  of  power 
and  the  accumulation  of  great  wealth.  If  in  the  world's 
history  some  few  hundred  prophets,  artists,  philosophers,  and 
saints  have  tried  to  rule  the  human  mind  by  works  of  great 
beauty,  wisdom  and  goodness,  millions  of  men,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  sought  pleasure  in  power  and  riches.  It  is  a 
common  opinion  that  man  desires  wealth  and  power  to 
procure  more  easily  spiritual  and  sensual  enjoyment ;  but 
this  opinion  proves,  on  closer  analysis,  to  be  insufficient.  It 
is  proved  insufficient,  firstly,  because  power  and  riches  were 
never  free  from  care  and  envy,  and,  in  certain  ages,  also  from 
grave  dangers,  which  were  often  stronger  than  the  pleasure 
wealth  and  power  could  give  ;  because  in  the  most  numerous 
class  of  rich  men — misers — the  first  condition  for  the  enjoy- 

|l 

ment  of  wealth  is  the  renunciation  of  all  the  pleasures  it  can 
procure ;  because  the  rich  and  powerful  of  all  countries  and 
ages  have  tried /to  distinguish  themselves  from  the  less  rich 
and  poor  by  luxuries  and  special  manners  of  life,  all  of  them 
tedious  and  wearisome  ;  and  lastly,  because,  instead  of  using 
riches  and  power  to  wisely  increase  their  own  liberty,  they 
have  made  themselves  the  slaves  of  tyrannical  formalities  and 
ceremonies,  and  voluntarily  passed  the  greater  part  of  their 
existence,  not  in  great  or  good  actions,  but  in  the  rigorous  and 
tedious  observation  of  vain,  puerile,  and  senseless  social  rites. 
Riches  are  earnestly  sought  after  by  many  men  for  the  same 
reason  that  power  is  sought  after  :  because  enriching  one's  self 


HORDES,    OR    THE    ORIGIN  OF   WAR  59 

and  governing  others  is  the  easiest  means  of  exalting  one's 
own  being  by  the  sentiment  and  exercise  of  personal  superi- 
ority and  power.  There  are  two  essential  pleasures  in 
the  acquirement  of  riches  and  power :  the  solitary  delight 
which  is  felt  by  him  who  enriches  himself  or  becomes 
master  of  the  State,  and  the  social  pleasure  which  arises 
from  showing  his  riches  and  power,  and  more  especially 
by  the  contrast  between  these  and  the  inferior  condition  of 
others.  Although  some  rich  men  are  indifferent  to  the  social 
enjoyment  of  wealth  and  power — in  some  the  attraction  of 
the  former  pleasure  is  greater,  in  others  that  of  the  latter — 
nevertheless,  these  two  are  generally  the  first  elements  of 
cupidity  and  ambition.  The  solitary  enjoyment  of  wealth  and 
power  is  the  simple  and  immediate  pleasure  of  feeling  him- 
self strong,  which  man  experiences  every  time  he  succeeds  in 
bringing  any  undertaking  to  a  successful  issue.  The  social  en- 
joyment is  the  complex  and  indirect  pleasure  of  feeling  his 
power  over  others,  which  arises  from  contrasting  his  own 
strength  with  the  lesser  strength  of  others,  his  own  power  with 
their  impotence. 

Ostentation  or  dominion :  these  are  the  two  passions 
essential  to  cupidity  and  ambition,  and  for  this  reason  they 
have  generally  displayed  themselves  in  senseless  tyranny  and 
the  vanities  of  extravagant  pride,  and  very  rarely  in  acts  of 
wisdom,  beauty,  or  goodness,  and  not  rarely  they  have  been 
merged  into  a  single  passion. 


II 

But  this  insatiable  thirst  for  strong  and  inebriating  emotions, 
though  it  is  the  chief  stimulus  to  action,  contains  nevertheless 
a  terrible  germ  of  error  and  ruin,  which  leads  maii  to 


60  MILITARISM 

perdition  whilst  searching  for  happiness.  The  cause  for  this 
must  be  sought  in  various  vices  of  will  and  intelligence  innate 
in  the  human  mind,  and  principally  in  the  desire  to  follow  the 
line  of  least  resistance.  From  this  tendency  to  make  the 
smallest  effort  possible — which  is  to  be  observed  in  all 
human  actions,  but  particularly  in  those  of  barbarians — springs 
the  lack  of  power  to  discern  and  resist  that  which  is  perhaps 
the  most  dangerous  of  illusions,  and  which  is  the  origin  of  so 
many  of  the  evils  of  life.  Thus  in  destroying  or  creating,  man 
can  procure  for  himself  strong  emotions,  and  persuade  himself 
/of  his  own  superiority  over  things.  Two  passions  have 
divided  the  human  heart  throughout  the  annals  of  history  : 
the  divine  passion  for  creation,  and  the  diabolical  passion  for 
destruction.  But  since  it  is  easier  to  destroy  than  to  create, 
a  terrible  and  universal  illusion  arose,  of  which  too  many 
nations  and  men  have  been  the  victims,  i.e.  that  happiness  is 
more  easily  to  be  found  in  destruction  than  in  creation. 
Creation,  though  in  reality  a  benefit,  presents  itself  under  a 
painful  aspect,  because  of  the  effort  it  demands  ;  but  when 
this  effort  is  made,  healthy  satisfaction  and  lasting  happiness 
follow.  Thus  the  passion  for  creation  can  be  compared  to  a 
delicious  fruit  enclosed  in  a  thin  but  bitter  peel.  Destruction, 
on  the  contrary,  is  an  evil  which  presents  itself  under  a 
pleasing  aspect,  because  it  can  cause  momentary  satisfaction 
in  return  for  a  slight  effort,  but  it  brings  ruin  and  death  in  its 
train.  Hence  the  passion  for  destruction  is  like  the  nauseous 
powder  concealed  in  jam. 

To  a  similar  illusion  of  these  passions  can  be  traced  the 
origin  of  war. 

Foresight,  indeed,  is  the  main  virtue  which  deters  modern 
men  from  seeking  happiness  in  destruction.  The  ideal  of 
happiness  to  a  civilized  man  at  this  century's  end  includes,  as 


HORDES,    OR    THE    ORIGIN  OF   WAR  6 1 

an  essential  requisite,  foresight  for  the  future.  Civilized  man 
does  not  attach  much  importance  to  a  lot,  however  attractive 
it  may  be,  whether  moral  or  material,  if  it  does  not  possess  a 
certain  stability.  Hence  any  condition,  however  favoured  by 
fortune,  if  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  rapid  change,  is  con- 
sidered by  all  but  a  few  fantastical  and  adventurous  spirits, 
as  inferior  to  a  humbler  but  securer  state.  Nineteenth-century 
man  may  seek  after  violent  and  inebriating  emotions  that 
permit  him  to  assert  his  superiority  over  his  fellows,  still  he 
tries  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  future  ;  and  while  attempting 
to  satisfy  this  desire,  he  is  careful  not  to  expose  himself  to 
the  danger  of  misfortunes  which  would  vastly  overshadow  his 
immediate  satisfaction.  To  attain  this  end,  he  does  not 
hesitate  to  subject  himself  to  a  severe  moral  discipline,  to 
exercise  a  rigorous  control  over  his  passions,  to  bridle  his 
imagination,  to  fatigue  his  mind  in  trying  to  realize  so 
vague  a  thing  as  the  future.  We  are  so  used  to  this  mode 
of  existence  that  we  fail  to  comprehend  how  men  can  be 
happy  otherwise. 

But,  unfortunately  for  man,  foresight  and  the  habit  of 
restraining  his  passions  with  a  view  to  the  future  are  virtues 
which  appear  to  him  unpleasant,  because  they  both  imply  an 
effort  of  will  and  consequent  suffering,  lighter  or  intenser 
according  to  the  degree  of  effort  made  and  the  strength  of 
him  who  makes  it ;  whereas  improvidence  is  an  evil  which 
at  first  appears  pleasant,  because  it  exempts  man  from  all 
mental  effort.  Hence  civilized  man  is  constantly  tempted  to 
return  to  improvidence  as  soon  as  the  mental  effort  necessary 
for  providence  becomes  too  great,  or  his  mind  is  weakened 
by  disease.  Is  it  not  true  that  we  are  most  capable  of  being 
provident  at  a  mature  age,  when  in  possession  of  our  full 
force,  whilst  children  are  improvident  and  old  men  become 


62  MILITARISM 

so  ?  But  even  a  young  man  may  become  improvident  at 
times,  owing  to  a  species  of  weariness  that  comes  over  him 
when  the  difficulties  against  which  he  has  to  fight  are  so 
numerous  and  various  that  his  mental  strength  is  not  equal  to 
the  exertion. 

v^  At  such  times  improvidence  and  fatalism  may  become  so 
exquisite  a  relief  to  the  worn-out  spirit  that  men  have  been 
seen  to  risk  throwing  fortune,  reputation,  even  life  itself 
unhesitatingly  to  the  winds.  In  any  case,  civilized  man  is 
constantly  encouraged  to  control  his  passions  in  view  of  the 
future,  and  by  the  thought  of  great  advantages  he  would 
otherwise  lose.  But  uncivilized  men  who  live  by  rude  agri- 
culture and  pasturage,  in  a  hut  easily  destroyed  and  easily 
rebuilt,  who  accumulate  little  wealth,  know  few  luxuries  and 
no  intellectual  refinement,  yield  more  easily  to  the  tempta- 
tions of  improvidence,  and  find  it  more  difficult  to  be 
constantly  thoughtful  of  the  future,  since  they  value  so  little 
what  the  past  has  bequeathed  to  them.  But  from  the 
moment  that  the  usually  small  amount  of  forethought  which 
characterizes  barbarous  peoples  is  lacking,  nothing  remains 
to  restrain  them  from  indulging  in  the  pleasure  of  the  maddest 
and  most  extravagant  destruction,  because  the  momentary 
satisfaction  which  constitutes  or  accompanies  destruction  is 
no  longer  opposed  by  the  thought  of  its  future  consequences. 
.War  can  thus,  for  a  moment,  become  the  passion  of  a  whole 
nation,  because  war  is  a  sort  of  vie  de  bohbne  to  uncivilized 
man. 

It  is  a  sentiment  of  this  character  which  accounts  for  the 
first  great  bellicose  movements  of  the  still  barbarous  human 
race,  and  for  the  formation  of  warlike  hordes  whose  periodical 
appearances  fill  history  from  time  to  time  with  the  roar  of  a 
huge  tempestuous  human  sea.  The  single  waves  of  this  ocean 


HORDES,    OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF   WAR  63 

bear  the  names  of  the  Cimbric  or  Teutonic  hordes,  of  German, 
Visigoth,  Longobardian,  Hungarian,  Tartar,  or  Mongolian. 
These  hordes  always  consisted  of  great  multitudes  who 
abandoned  their  lands,  their  work,  and  ancient  modes  of  life,  ' 
and  descended  in  tribes  of  men,  women,  and  children  into 
countries  inhabited  by  other  nations.  Any  event  was  made 
a  pretext  for  such  transmigrations  :  a  dearth,  an  earthquake,  a 
pestilence,  an  eclipse,  the  predictions  of  augurs.  But  their 
real  incentive,  at  least  at  first,  was  the  love  for  an  adven- 
turous life,  free  from  thought  for  the  future — the  charm  of 
that  carelessness  which  loosens  the  control  over  passions  ; 
above  all,  that  strongest  of  all  human  passions,  idleness  ;  the 
desire  for  wealth  easily  gained,  and  for  the  attainment — by 
means  of  the  destruction  of  cities,  and  the  extermination  or 
reduction  to  slavery  of  entire  populations— of  the  pleasure 
born  of  believing  themselves  invincible  and  of  domineering  over 
their  fellows. 


Ill 

To  thoroughly  understand  how  this  elementary  warlike  form 
of  society  originated,  it  will  be  well  to  consider  a  modern 
example,  which  we  can  study  in  detail  from  documents 
provided  by  an  eye-witness.  Although  hordes  are  no  longer 
formed  in  Europe,  Africa  and  Asia  still  offer  us  living 
examples  of  such  associations — more  especially  Africa,  where 
what  to  us  is  dead  legend,  remains  there  a  still  living 
reality.  Thus  the  Soudan  has  recently  seen  the  formation 
of  a  colossal  warlike  horde,  whose  rapid  and  adventurous 
record  is  known  to  us  through  the  recital  of  many  Europeans 
who  witnessed  its  formation.  I  allude  to  the  great  Mahdist 
revolution  of  1884,  known  to  us  as  the  Dervish  movement, 


64  MILITARISM 

which  for  fourteen  years  interrupted  Egyptian  rule  in   the 
Soudanese  regions. 

This  uprising  has  been  considered  in  the  light  of  a  religious 
revolution,  due  to  the  fanaticism  of  certain  barbarous 
Mussulman  tribes,  incited  by  incendiary  prophets.  Religious 
fanaticism  certainly  was  one  of  the  many  factors  which 
contributed  to  the  immense  energy  of  the  revolution  at  its 
outset ;  but  its  importance  was  perhaps  exaggerated  by 
Europeans,  as  always  happens  when  they  attempt  to  judge 
any  great  event  in  Mussulman  society.  Since  religion 
pervades  the  whole  of  Mussulman  life,  Europeans,  who 
observe  that  many  things  there  bear  a  religious  character 
which  are  not  religious  with  us,  consequently  attribute  every- 
thing to  religion.  In  reality,  however,  religion  only  lends  an 
exterior  aspect  to  events  which  are  really  the  results  of 
more  human  and  general  causes.  Thus  the  Dervish  War, 
which  appeared  to  be  merely  the  conflict  of  a  new  Mussulman 
sect  against  an  elder  branch,  was  in  reality  a  social  revolution 
produced  by  social  and  political  causes,  which  determined  the 
formation  of  a  warlike  horde. 

The  Soudan  is  inhabited  by  Arabs,  Nubians  or  Negroes,  and 
Berbers,  the  latter  a  race  born  of  the  crossing  of  Negroes  with 
Jews  and  Arians,  who  dwell  between  the  first  and  fourth 
cataracts  of  the  Nile  in  the  districts  of  Berber.  Before  the 
revolution  these  peoples  were  a  power  that  could  not  be  over- 
looked without  peril.  For  example,  certain  very  wealthy,  intel- 
ligent, and  capable  slave-merchants  had  become  true  military 
commanders,  conquerors,  and  almost  founders  of  States,  such 
as  Zubeir  Pasha,  lately  deceased  at  Cairo,  who,  as  a  young  man, 
when  advancing  with  bands  he  had  enlisted  for  the  purpose 
of  slave-raiding,  came  in  contact  with  the  Sultan  of  Darfur, 
whom  he  conquered  and  deposed,  acquiring  thus,  in  the 


HORDES,   OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  65 

course  of  his  commercial  undertakings,  this  immense  tract  of 
Egyptian  land.  The  Negro  population  represents  the  pariahs 
of  Soudanese  society.  Confined  within  the  remotest  regions 
of  the  Soudan,  they  drag  out  a  miserable  existence  by  the 
indolent  pursuit  of  very  primitive  agriculture  and  pasturage. 
In  cities  and  big  villages  they  perform  the  meanest  services 
and  the  most  degraded  work,  both  in  the  public  or  com- 
mercial administrations,  or  in  private  houses.  Their  principal 
function,  however,  before  the  revolution,  throughout  the 
whole  Soudan,  was  to  furnish,  together  with  the  Berbers,  the 
chief  material  for  the  slave-trade. 

Many  were  the  causes  of  the  violent  upheaval  of  a  society 
so  organized.  The  Soudan  at  that  period  belonged  to  the 
Egyptian  Government,  who  ruled  it  by  means  of  functionaries 
despatched  from  Cairo.  These  maintained  a  purely  Oriental 
administration :  indolent,  indifferent  to  the  requirements  of 
their  subjects,  careless  of  justice,  rapacious  and  corrupt. 
Into  this  administration,  to  make  matters  worse,  there  had 
entered  of  late  years  several  Europeans  and  Christians,  who 
had  been  introduced  in  the  hope  of  improving  matters. 
These  officials,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  had  no 
other  care  than  to  enrich  themselves  by  means  of  their 
authority  to  extort  money  ;  hence  corruption  was  so  deep 
and  universal  that  the  energy  of  Gordon,  sent  there  twice 
as  governor,  if  it  managed  to  eradicate  some  partial  abuses, 
failed  to  renovate  a  condition  so  desperately  vitiated.  The 
Egyptian  Government,  however,  was  not  content  to  abandon 
the  Soudan  to  the  rapacity  of  its  functionaries  ;  it  wanted 
to  do  more,  and,  in  its  own  interest  at  least,  it  wanted  to  do 
worse.  It  wished  to  concede  to  itself,  in  the  midst  of  the 
general  dishonesty—I  might  almost  call  it  the  mortal  sin 
in  which  it  lived — the  bizarre  luxury  of  an  honest  scruple, 

E 


66  MILITARISM 

which  became  the  cause  of  its  loss.     It  wished  to  prohibit, 
encouraged    by   English   influence,   the    slave-trade    in   the 
Soudan.     The  discontent  aroused  by  such  an  edict  can  be 
imagined  when  we  reflect  that  the  richest  and  most  power- 
ful portion  of  Soudanese  society  was  engaged  in  this  com- 
merce ;   that  the  prohibition,  besides  the  other  misfortunes, 
which  its  sudden  application  entailed,  threatened  to  ruin  at 
a  blow  this  very  wealthy  class  of  merchants,  and  to  reduce 
to  misery  the   numerous   tribes  who  assisted   in  the  trade. 
Nor  must  it  be  thought  that  this  abolition  of  slavery,  which 
displeased  the  rich  merchants  and  their  colleagues,  brought 
the  Government  into  better  favour  with  the  negro  population 
from  whom  all  the  slaves  were  drawn.     The  negro  tribes, 
like  all  the  Soudanese,  detested  the  Egyptian   Government 
for  the  injustice  of  its  functionaries,  of  whom  they  were  the 
victims  ;   neither   could   the  probability  of  never  again  be- 
coming slaves   suffice  to  make  them  forget  the  oppression 
of  so  rapacious  and  capricious  a  Government.     Everything 
— liberty  included — has  a  changeful  value  ;  of  supreme  benefit 
to  some,  it  may  want   much   of  its   value   to   others.     All 
Soudanese  negroes  do  not  appear  to  have  regarded  slavery 
as  the  greatest  evil,  since  it  actually  happened  that  Gordon 
liberated    slave-convoys    only  to    see   the    slaves   returning 
spontaneously  to  the  dealers. 

In  any  case,  these  good  intentions  proved  as  noxious  to 
the  Egyptian  Government  as  its  guilty  indifference  to  justice 
and  the  dishonesty  of  its  functionaries.  The  rich  and  power- 
ful class  of  slave-merchants  turned  against  the  Government, 
and  its  discontent,  combined  with  that  of  all  the  Soudan, 
against  the  oppressive  Egyptian  administration,  prepared 
a  state  of  feeling  and  of  things  favourable  to  revolution. 
Let  us  add  to  this  religious  and  class  hatred.  The 


HORDES,   OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  67 

Mussulmans  were  displeased  to  see  so  many  Europeans  and 
Christians  in  the  administration  ;  to  know  that  in  Cairo,  at 
the  court  of  Ishmail,  the  Europeans  were  heeded  better  than 
the  Mussulmans  ;  that  much  of  the  money  extorted  from  them 
flowed  into  the  hands  of  the  numerous  Christians,  who  were 
working  at  Cairo  with  a  view  to  putting  into  practice  Ishmail's 
dream,  which  was  to  make  use  of  Oriental  prodigality  to 
forward  a  sumptuous  and  innovating  administration  that 
should  introduce  into  his  states  the  progressive  benefits  of 
European  civilization.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  such  an  un- 
quiet and  vast  society  that  Mohammed  Ahmed,  an  obscure 
youth  from  Dongola,  proclaimed  himself  Mahdi,  and  started 
to  preach  a  sacred  war.  It  does  not  appear  that  this 
Mahdi  was  a  mystic,  it  looks  rather  as  if  he  was  a  rogue, 
an  ambitious  man,  covetous  of  wealth,  an  individual  of  the 
most  dangerous  order,  one  of  those  born  low  down  in  the 
social  scale,  but  determined  to  rise  at  any  cost.  He  was 
thus  an  example  of  the  man  thirsty  for  emotion,  whom  we 
always  find  preceding  any  stormy  events  in  human  history. 
In  Europe  he  would  probably  have  been  a  successful  political 
intriguer,  in  the  Soudan  he  became  a  religious  reformer  who, 
with  a  certain  amount  of  humbug,  which  took  the  form  of 
Divine  revelation,  and  with  the  pretended  performance  of  some 
miracles,  dared  to  fan  the  flame  of  universal  discontent.  The 
effect  of  this  preaching,  which  was  begun  timidly  at  first  and 
amidst  poor  tribes  and  the  most  wretched  scum  of  Soudanese 
society,  was  marvellous,  owing  to  the  universal  discontent. 
Several  tribes  readily  embraced  the  occasion  to  hurl  them- 
selves blindly  on  the  strength  of  a  supposed  divine  revelation, 
into  the  pursuit  of  an  existence  free  from  future  care  and  full 
of  violent  emotion.  Life  and  the  world  were  to  be  revivified, 
according  to  the  Mahdi's  prediction,  in  the  form  most 


68  MILITARISM 

seductive  to  these  simple  minds.  The  peasant  was  no  longer 
to  cultivate  his  land,  the  shepherd  was  to  leave  his  flock,  none 
were  to  pay  taxes  to  the  Government,  or  to  be  any  longer 
subject  to  the  oppressions  of  omnipotent  rulers.  All  were  to 
live  together  in  the  Soudan  in  a  great  nomadic  tribe,  with 
songs  and  music  to  inspire  them,  fighting  and  pillaging. 

The  contagion  of  this  illusion,  this  great  passion,  spread 
like  wild-fire  amongst  the  tribes.  No  one  asked  himself  how 
long  such  an  existence  could  endure  ;  the  horde  was  rapidly 
increased  by  contingents  from  all  sides — men,  families,  and 
tribes.  As  happens  in  all  revolutions,  the  first  to  hail  it 
were  outcasts  and  vagabonds ;  then  families  who  wrung  a 
wretched  livelihood  from  the  soil,  tormented  by  usurers, 
burnt  their  huts  and  joined  the  prophet ;  then  the  inhabitants 
of  entire  villages  abandoned  their  homes  to  follow  in  his 
wake ;  finally  whole  tribes  arrived  with  their  cattle,  utensils, 
and  possessions.  They  came  not  as  soldiers  who  leave  their 
homes  temporarily  to  fight  in  a  war  of  short  duration,  but 
as  emigrants  setting  out  for  some  El  Dorado  whence  to  restart 
life.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months  an  immense  horde 
wandered  about  the  Soudan  in  search  of  war  and  prey ; 
whilst  the  quieter  tribes,  those  who  had  resisted  the  universal 
madness,  continued  patiently  to  cultivate  the  earth,  with  the 
vague  presentiment  of  a  huge  tempest  brewing  in  the  heavens 
towards  the  horizon,  which  must  burst  sooner  or  later  above 
their  heads. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  of  what  this  horde  of  Dervishes, 
collected  to  fight  the  holy  war  against  Egypt  and  living  by 
war,  could  originally  have  consisted.  It  is  difficult  fully  to 
realize  to  one's  self  this  dense  torrent  of  human  lava  which  set 
fire  to  everything  along  its  course.  Is  it  possible  to  the  Euro- 
pean of  the  nineteenth  century  to  imagine  a  multitude  of 


HORDES,    OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF   WAR  69 

more  than  a  hundred  thousand  souls,  consisting  of  men  and 
women,  old  people  and  children,  who  have  sacrificed  their 
whole  existence  to  a  moment  of  unutterable  exultation,  i 
without  giving  one  thought  to  the  morrow — a  people  of 
madmen,  whose  frenzy  lasts  for  months  ?  Yet  this  was  the 
spiritual  condition  of  the  Dervish  horde  in  its  initial  stage  : 
absolute  thoughtlessness,  continuous  excitement  without 
respite  and  without  pause,  fermented  by  every  artifice.  The 
Mahdi  and  his  chief  followers  never  wearied  of  firing  the 
ardour  of  the  faithful  with  inspired  preachings.  When 
the  preachers  were  mute,  the  crowd  fed  its  own  excitement 
with  wild  songs,  with  dances,  and  above  all  with  stirring 
music ;  for  music,  the  art  whence  civilized  men  demand  the 
most  delicate  spiritual  enjoyment,  has  ever  been  the  ac- 
complice of  the  maddest  and  most  extravagant  follies  of 
primitive  man.  The  most  intense  and  voluptuous  frenzy 
was  obtained  by  the  extreme  violence  of  destruction,  and 
in  the  most  unbounded  extravagances  of  pride.  The  only 
passions  which  surged  in  the  souls  of  this  terrible  crowd  were 
those  of  ruin  and  destruction — burning  passions  which 
annihilated  the  slender  principles,  the  fragile  moral  traditions 
created  by  the  work  of  ages,  which,  as  the  lava  which  boils 
over  from  a  crater  raging  along  the  mountain  side,  effaces 
the  works  of  man,  his  furrows  and  landmarks  painfully  traced 
on  the  earth's  surface. 

A  single  example  suffices  to  demonstrate  the  extent  of  this 
madness.  The  Arab  tribes  of  the  Eastern  Soudan  had 
followed  the  Mahdi,  with  their  magnificent  flocks,  their 
ancient  wealth,  the  traditional  pride  of  their  tribes.  When 
near  Khartoum,  the  Mahdi  announced  to  them  that  it  was  a 
time  for  fighting,  not  for  pasturing  cattle,  and  exhorted  them 
to  kill  their  animals.  These  simple  and  primitive  men  were 


70  MILITARISM 

immediately  prevailed  upon  to  destroy  their  flocks,  and  to 
disperse  in  a  few  days  the  wealth  accumulated  by  centuries 
of  labour,  which  for  ages  represented  their  greatest  pride;  and 
this,  with  the  sole  object  of  providing  the  horde  with  an  orgy 
of  meat  for  a  few  days. 

Thus  in  the  beginning,  and  after  the  first  unhoped-for 
successes,  the  battles  consisted  of  a  species  of  feasts  to  which 
the  crowds  assembled,  thirsting  for  blood  and  ruin,  drunk 
with  pride,  blind  and  deaf  to  all  peril.  A  passion  for  violence 
fermented  in  their  midst,  the  courage  of  impulse  proper  to 
crowds  excited  by  fanaticism  and  the  thirst  for  blood — the 
boldness  of  any  army  intoxicated  with  victory,  and  which 
believes  itself  invincible.  The  Dervish  horde  was  chiefly 
composed  of  inexperienced  soldiers,  drawn  from  pastoral 
and  agricultural  tribes,  and  consequently  cowardly,  like  all 
barbarians  unaccustomed  to  the  perils  of  war  ;  of  soldiers 
incapable  of  resisting  the  fear  of  shooting  and  the  hardships 
of  war  by  a  mental  effort ;  men  of  no  worth,  in  short,  but  who, 
taken  together,  blinded  by  fanaticism,  intoxicated  by  a  violent 
and  irregular  life  and  by  universal  excitement,  formed  an 
army  devoid  of  fear,  because  it  no  longer  reasoned — a  crowd 
animated  by  a  formidable  impulse  which  nothing  could  at 
first  resist. 

In  the  attack  on  El  Obeid,  an  army  of  Dervishes,  armed 
only  with  lances  and  swords,  assailed  a  fortress  defended 
by  guns  and  cannon.  The  obstinate  assaults  are  described  by 
Rudolf  Slatin  in  these  words  : — 

"  On  Friday  morning,  September  the  8th,  the  seething  mass 
of  human  beings,  armed  only  with  swords  and  spears,  rolled 
like  the  waves  of  the  sea  towards  the  town.  .  .  .  The  rifle-fire 
of  the  defenders  soon  began  to  play  with  deadly  effect  on  the 
crowd,  who,  utterly  undeterred,  and  seeking  only  for  blood 


HORDES,   OR    THE   ORIGIN  OF   WAR  71 

and  plunder,  continued  their  advance,  swarming  into  the 
ditches  and  up  the  parapet,  and  entering  the  town.  At 
this  critical  moment  Major  Nesim  Effendi  told  his  bugler 
to  sound  the  advance  ;  and  the  signal  being  taken  up  by  the 
other  buglers,  the  soldiers,  clambering  up  on  the  tops  of  the 
walls  and  houses,  brought  a  murderous  fire  to  bear  on  the 
assailants.  Slowly  the  surging  mass,  under  this  hail  of  lead, 
was  driven  back,  leaving  behind  them  thousands  of  killed  and 
wounded.  Once  more  they  rallied  and  attempted  again  to 
storm  ;  but  again  they  were  driven  back  with  still  greater 
slaughter." 

And  what  frenzies  of  satisfied  pride  after  the  victory  !  The 
Dervishes,  like  the  Huns  and  Tartars,  believed  themselves  to 
be,  and  were  believed,  for  a  moment,  to  be  indomitable. 
Even  the  humblest  and  least  of  the  soldiers  thus  participated, 
to  a  slight  extent,  in  the  pleasure  of  having  overcome  their 
foes,  and  of  thinking  themselves  above  the  common  herd,  of 
feeling  themselves  a  little  superior  to  others — an  exquisite 
moral  reward  for  warfare  which  every  member  of  the  horde 
could  procure  for  himself  with  little  fatigue.  To  this  sense  of 
satisfaction  the  material  spoil  must  also  be  added.  Plunder, 
with  all  its  accompanying  excitement — the  unexpected  dis- 
covery of  treasures,  the  easy  acquisition  of  great  wealth,  the 
capricious  waste  of  superfluity,  the  piquant  pleasure  of  search, 
and  the  oppressions  over  the  vanquished — became  the  ardent 
passion  of  the  multitude.  Everywhere  the  Dervish  horde 
destroyed  what  fell  into  their  hands  :  the  Government  stores, 
the  possessions  of  those  tribes  who  had  remained  neutral, 
the  private  treasures  of  the  rich.  And  since  in  the  Soudan, 
as  in  all  barbarous  countries,  the  earth  is  the  bank  to  which 
men  confide  their  treasures  in  stormy  times,  no  sooner  was 
a  village  or  a  city  seized  than  searches  were  begun  for 


72  MILITARISM 

hidden  treasures ;  and  the  conquerors  subjected  to  cruel 
tortures  all  those  suspected  of  having  concealed  wealth. 
What  horrors  were  witnessed  in  the  Soudan  on  this  account ! 
After  the  seizure  of  El  Fasher,  amongst  the  many  prisoners 
subjected  to  torture  on  suspicion  of  possessing  concealed 
treasures,  was  an  officer  in  the  Egyptian  army,  a  certain 
Hamada  Effendi.  Instead  of  revealing  the  hiding-place  where 
his  treasures  were  concealed,  he  amused  himself,  even  whilst 
under  torture,  by  insulting  his  torturers,  until  the  Emir, 
infuriated  by  his  conduct,  ordered  him  to  be  flogged  until  he 
confessed.  For  three  days  he  was  given  a  thousand  blows, 
but  in  vain  ;  for  every  time  in  reply  to  the  demand,  "  Where 
is  the  money?"  he  answered,  "Yes,  I  have  hidden  some 
money,  but  my  secret  will  be  buried  with  me."  After  three 
days  of  flagellation  the  executioners  were  forced  to  yield 
before  such  indomitable  determination,  and  to  suspend  their 
tortures,  for  fear  of  killing  their  victim.  Major  Hamada, 
whose  body  was  now  one  huge  wound,  was  then  consigned 
as  a  prisoner  to  the  Arab  tribe,  Mina,  who,  unwilling  to 
relinquish  all  hope  of  exacting  the  secret,  subjected  him  to  a 
new  torture,  less  violent  but  more  ingenious  and  of  longer  dura- 
tion, that  of  bathing  his  wounds  with  a  solution  of  salt  water 
and  Soudanese  pepper.  Slatin,  who  had  known  Hamada  in 
happier  times,  was  moved  to  compassion  by  his  heroism 
and  martyrdom.  He  wished  to  come  to  his  assistance,  and  even 
managed  to  persuade  the  Emir,  in  whose  power  he  was,  to 
give  him  into  his  care.  The  Emir  consented  to  Slatin's 
request,  but  on  one  sole  condition  :  that  if  Hamada  confided 
to  him  the  hiding-place  of  his  treasure,  he  would  reveal  it. 
Slatin  acquiesced.  He  had  the  wretched  man  carried  to  his 
tent,  and  washed  and  oiled  his  wounds.  But  he  soon  perceived 
that  his  help  had  arrived  too  late,  and  that  the  victim  could  not 


CRSITY 

V     OF 

%§*UF 
HORDE'STOR   THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  73 

long  survive.  Indeed,  after  four  days  had  elapsed,  Hamada 
lay  dying.  Then,  having  dismissed  the  servants,  he  called 
for  Slatin,  and  in  an  expiring  voice  whispered  in  his  ear — 

" '  My  hour  has  come.  May  the  Lord  reward  you  for  all 
your  kindness  to  me !  I  cannot  do  so,  but  I  will  show  you 
that  I  am  grateful.  I  have  buried  my  money.'  '  Stop  ! '  said 
I.  '  Are  you  going  to  tell  me  where  you  have  hidden  your 
treasure? '  'Yes/  he  murmured,  'it  may  be  of  some  use  to 
you.'  '  No,'  I  answered,  *  I  will  not  and  cannot  use  it ;  I 
secured  your  release  from  your  tormentors  on  the  one  condition 
that,  should  I  learn  where  your  money  was  hidden,  I  should 
tell  your  enemy.  You  have  suffered  greatly,  and  are  paying 
with  your  life  for  your  determination  not  to  let  your  treasure 
fall  into  your  enemy's  hands ;  let  it  lie  unknown  in  the 
ground,  it  will  keep  silence.'  Whilst  I  was  talking,  Hamada 
held  my  hand  ;  with  a  supreme  effort  he  murmured,  '  I 
thank  you  ;  may  you  become  fortunate  without  my  money. 
Allah  Karim  (God  is  merciful).'  Then,  stretching  out  his 
limbs  and  raising  his  forefinger,  he  slowly  uttered,  '  La  ilaha 
illallah,  Mohammed  Rasul  Allah,'  closed  his  eyes,  and  died." 

Vagabondage,  rapine,  violence,  thoughtlessness  for  the 
future,  a  blind  indulgence  of  all  the  most  savage  and  im- 
petuous passions  :  this  was  the  condition  in  which  the 
Dervish  horde  lived  until  the  taking  of  Khartoum.  But  this 
state  of  excitement  could  not  endure  when  the  conditions  which 
it  caused  ceased  to  exist ;  that  is,  the  possibility  and  hope  of 
fresh  victorious  wars  and  of  gigantic  plunderings — possibilities 
and  hopes  which  could  not  continue  indefinitely.  Although 
the  Mahdi  dreamed  of  conquering  Egypt  and  Syria  as  far  as 
Constantinople,  he  could  not  fail  to  perceive,  unless  he  had 
gone  raving  mad,  that  his  empire  had  reached  its  furthest 
limits,  and  that  victory  could  not  follow  him  into  the  heart  of 


74  MILITARISM 

Egypt.  Anyway,  shortly  after  his  triumph  at  Khartoum 
Mohammed  Ahmed  died  of  typhoid  fever,  in  the  flower  of  his  , 
years  and  in  his  full  glory  as  the  fortunate  conquerer  of  a 
vast  empire.  His  death  rendered  easier  and  prompter  an 
internal  change  in  the  Dervish  horde,  then  very  necessary. 
The  Mahdi's  successor,  the  Caliph  Abdullahi,  a  man  prudent 
and  little  bellicose,  realizing  the  mistake  of  tempting  victory 
too  far,  brought  the  era  of  great  warlike  undertakings  to  a 
close,  and  started  to  inaugurate  a  new  epoch  in  the  confused 
material  of  the  horde. 

At  this  point  that  which  is  the  fundamental  phenomenon  of 
war  began  to  determine  itself  in  the  Dervish  horde,  the 
phenomenon  which  demonstrates  how  the  purely  moral  argu- 
ments against  war  are  far  more  serious  and  important  than 
sceptics  imagine.  He  who  opposes  war  on  the  ground  of 
the  purely  moral  principle  which  prohibits  man  to  kill  or  rob, 
even  to-day  .at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century,  runs  the  risk 
of  being  looked  upon  as  an  imbecile  or  at  best  a  mere 
visionary ;  because  even  those  who  live  morally  place  little 
faith  in  the  practical  value  of  moral  principles,  while  the  great 
majority  of  men  are  always  ready  to  worship  vice  and  crime, 
when  these  present  themselves  with  the  attributes  of  power. 
That  morality,  even  when  it  appears  defenceless,  possesses  an 
intimate  and  organic  force  of  its  own  ;  that  vice,  even  when  it 
is  supported  by  the  greatest  human  force,  is  in  reality  hope- 
lessly feeble,  this  is  a  truth  which  men  have  rarely  really 
believed.  Success  and  power  still  represent  to  the  poor 
human  mind  the  justification  of  the  most  odious  crimes,  so 
ready  is  man  to  deny  morality  the  moment  vice  and  crime 
appear  to  have  gained  an  instant's  victory  over  virtue  in  the 
infinitely  varying  game  of  life. 

But  in  reality  the  words  cf  the  Gospel,  "  He  who  conquers 


HORDES,   OR   THE   ORIGIN  OP  WAR  75 

by  the  sword  shall  perish  by  the  sword,1'  express  in  simple 
form  an  elementary  vital  law  which  can  be  almost  literally 
applied  to  the  history  of  war,  because  war  contains  in  itself 
its  own  moral  sanction,  and  develops  outside  of  itself  the 
punishment  of  the  injustice  which  is  its  essence.  Thus  it 
happens  in  the  history  of  hordes  that  a  war,  which  begins  by 
destroying  other  societies,  ends  with  the  ruin  of  the  tribe  which 
gave  it  birth.  By  a  rapid  transformation  its  deleterious  force 
towards  vanquished  societies  turns  on  itself,  acting  upon  the 
structure  of  the  victorious  society,  which  undergoes  in  the  end 
the  same  fate  as  its  victims. 

The  Soudanese  revolution  was  the  work  of  a  horde  com- 
posed of  individuals,  families,  and  tribes  who  had  altered 
their  lives  from  those  of  shepherds,  agriculturists  and  labourers 
to  champions  of  a  holy  war.  It  had  been  indirectly  favoured  by 
many  tribes,  who,  though  discontented  with  the  actual  condi- 
tion of  things,  did  not  join  it.  Its  victims  were  the  armies  and 
property  of  the  Egyptian  Government  and  the  tribes  which 
remained  faithful  to  Egypt,  whose  riches  formed  part  of 
the  great  booty  obtained  in  the  war.  This  prey  was,  up  to 
the  taking  of  El  Obeid,  divided  with  fair  justice  among  all  the 
soldiers,  who  thus  derived  no  mean  benefits  from  the  conflict, 
more  especially  as  they  had  always  been  used  to  poverty. 
If  the  Emirs  and  the  friends  of  the  Mahdi  apportioned  to 
themselves  a  larger  share,  no  one  considered  this  unjust. 
And  as  the  spoils  were  sufficient  at  the  beginning  to  satisfy 
the  greed  both  of  the  horde  and  its  chiefs,  the  new  Govern- 
ment had  no  need,  and  indeed  little  time,  in  the  midst  of  the 
disorder  of  war,  to  impose  regular  tributes  on  the  tribes  who, 
without  taking  any  direct  part,  had  favoured  the  revolu- 
tion. Hence  these  tribes,  liberated  from  paying  tribute 
to  the  Egyptian  Government,  and  for  the  moment  under  no 


76  MILITARISM 

obligation  to  pay  imposts  to  the  new,  were  able  to  delude 
themselves  with  the  idea  that  the  age  of  tax-paying  had 
passed  for  ever. 

But  of  how  short  duration  is  human  delusion!  The 
Mahdi  once  dead,  power  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  ferocious, 
hard,  and  greedy  oligarchy,  which  soon  converted  the  con- 
quering army,  the  horde  which  governed  the  Soudan,  the 
faithful  who  had  expelled  the  impure  Turks,  into  a  multitude 
of  wretched  slaves,  the  victims  and  at  the  same  time  the 
tools  of  the  most  humiliating  and  cruel  tyranny  which  the 
human  mind  could  conceive. 

From  the  moment  that  Caliph  Abdullahi  came  into  power 
\/he  had  only  one  object  in  view :  to  use  every  one  for  his  own 
enrichment  and  to  aggrandize  his  family.  Abdullahi  was, 
indeed,  born  and  educated  to  be  an  implacable  tormentor  of 
his  species.  Sprung  from  poor  parents,  he  displayed  no 
desire  to  work  in  his  youth.  Thus  his  first  life  experiences 
had  been  bitter :  that  is  to  say,  those  of  a  poor  man  who  lives 
in  a  rude  society  where  there  are  few  rich,  but  where,  through 
universal  hardness  of  heart,  there  is  little  compassion  among 
the  poor  ;  where  he  who  possesses  a  little  likes  to  increase 
the  small  pleasure  of  possessing  by  despising  the  very  poor, 
and  impressing  upon  them  their  inferiority ;  where  he  who 
possesses  nothing  has  no  rights  whatsoever,  and  is  generally 
ill-treated,  the  victim  of  all  the  contempt  and  the  ferocious 
caprices  of  human  wickedness.  Now,  where  the  rich  are 
malignant  the  poor  are  rebellious  ;  and  still  more  rebellious 
must  have  been  a  poor  man  like  the  future  Caliph,  who  cared 
little  for  work  and  possessed  great  vanity  and  a  desire  to 
enjoy.  This  poor,  ambitious,  and  covetous  vagabond  was 
one  of  the  first  to  follow  the  prophet  of  Dongola.  He  knew 
how  to  curry  favour,  became  one  of  his  intimates,  and  ended 


HORDES,    OR    THE   ORIGIN  OF   WAR  77 

by  being  appointed  Caliph,  which  signifies  in  a  Mussulman 
country  the  successor  to  power.  His  greed,  suppressed  so 
long  by  poverty ;  his  vanity,  embittered  by  so  many  years  of 
humiliation ;  the  indescribable  exaltation  of  his  egoism  and 
pride,  inebriated  at  a  stroke  by  such  a  fabulous  piece  of  good 
luck,  which  made  of  the  derided  beggar  knocked  about  the 
streets  the  master  of  an  immense  empire  and  the  arbitrator 
of  the  fates  of  so  many  who  had  seen  him  clothed  in  rags — 
these  combinations  of  events  naturally  made  of  an  innately 
bad  man  that  which  he  became,  to  the  sinful  sorrow  of  the 
Soudanese,  i.e.  one  of  the  cruellest,  most  insolent,  rapacious 
and  madly  proud  tyrants  who  ever  in  the  history  of  humanity 
mounted  a  throne  to  torment  and  chastise  mankind.  Greed 
and  ambition  divided  his  soul,  as  they  did  those  of  the  most 
powerful  members  of  the  horde  who  shared  his  empire  ;  hence 
the  characteristics  of  his  Government  were  rapacity  and 
tyranny. 


IV 

Abdullah!  and  his  Government  were  the  scourge  of  the 
Soudan  ;  the  terrible  expiation  which  the  Soudanese  popula- 
tion were  condemned  to  make  for  their  direct  or  indirect 
participation  in  the  violence  and  rapine  of  the  Holy  War. 
No  accidental  chastisement,  let  it  be  clearly  understood,  which 
descended  by  chance  on  these  peoples'  heads  because  ill  luck 
would  have  it  that  the  Mahdi's  first  successor  should  be  an 
inhuman  brigand,  but  an  expiation  which  was  in  the 
natural  and  necessary  sequence  of  events,  whose  advent 
was  inevitable,  through  the  moral  and  social  condition  in 
which  the  Dervish  horde  found  itself  at  the  close  of  the 
Holy  War. 


78  MILITARISM 

Owing  to  a  very  general  but  little  heeded  psychological 
phenomenon,  which  it  is  important  to  keep  in  view,  those  few 
years  passed  in  the  midst  of  war  and  rapine  had  left  the 
Dervishes  in  such  a  mental  condition  that  they  were  forced 
to  become,  in  their  turn,  the  victims  of  rapine  and  oppression 
on  the  part  of  a  few  bolder,  more  cunning,  and  crueller  men. 
The  fighting  over,  the  half-religious,  half-brigand  excitement, 
which  had  made  soldiers  of  these  peasants  and  shepherds, 
began  to  abate  by  degrees  for  want  of  fuel.  But  the  abate- 
ment of  the  fever  did  not  bring  back  the  flocks  destroyed  in 
the  heat  of  delirium  ;  nor  did  the  beautiful  cultivated  fields 
return,  which  the  fanatics  had  left  behind  in  order  to  follow 
the  Mahdi.  The  Dervish  horde,  though  formed  of  uncultured 
and  uncivilized  peasants,  possessed  nevertheless  a  rudimentary 
morality  which  had  made  of  them  hitherto  a  useful  element 
in  Soudanese  society,  owing  to  their  peaceful  habits.  But, 
torn  from  their  land  and  their  cattle,  they  had  abandoned  their 
industrious  habits,  and  degenerated  into  a  multitude  of  armed 
vagabonds  whose  only  moral  impulse  was  fanaticism.  What 
could  possibly  become  of  such  when  their  excitement  was 
passed  ?  They  were  as  leaves  which  a  tempest  had  torn  from 
the  branch,  whirled  for  a  moment,  and  then,  the  storm  over, 
left  scattered  here  and  there,  withered  and  dried.  In  the 
moral  world,  as  in  the  material,  all  creative  forces  are  gradual 
and  slow,  whilst  those  of  destruction  are  rapid  and  instan- 
taneous :  they  arrive  in  a  moment,  and  annihilate  without 
allowing  time  for  defence.  Does  not  a  forest  fire  destroy  in 
a  few  hours  the  vegetation  of  centuries  ?  The  habit  of  regular 
work,  the  accumulation  of  the  instruments  necessary  to  do 
this  work,  the  traditions  and  principles  of  primitive  morality, 
— all  these,  the  creations  of  centuries,  the  fruits  of  the  labour 
of  generations,  were  thus  destroyed  in  a  few  years  of  idleness 


HORDES,   OR    THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  79 

and  excitement.  Nor  could  they  be  recreated  in  a  day ;  as 
little  could  a  magician  replace  in  the  burnt  forest  the  trees 
which  only  time  could  produce.  He  who  has  tasted  the  violent 
pleasures  of  a  disorderly  life,  full  of  factitious  excitement, 
cannot  easily  re-accustom  himself  to  a  dull  and  monotonous 
existence.  And  even  those  members  of  the  Mahdi's  horde 
who  wished  to  rectify  their  error,  by  returning  to  their  former 
mode  of  life,  were  unable  to  do  so,  having  destroyed  or  dis- 
persed their  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood.  Besides  this,  they 
no  longer  made  any  wealth  out  of  the  war,  because  after  the 
taking  of  Khartoum  the  Mahdi  prohibited  the  soldiers  from 
appropriating  any  part  of  the  booty  under  severe  penalties, 
compelling  them  to  consign  it  to  the  beib-el-mal,  or  tax- 
exactor  :  that  is  to  say,  to  himself  and  his  friends,  who 
divided  everything  among  them.  In  a  moment  of  madness 
they  had  voluntarily  made  outcasts  of  themselves,  and  out- 
casts they  were  to  remain  to  the  end  of  their  days  ;  and,  what 
was  worse,  they  were  no  longer  animated  by  the  fanaticism 
which  inspired  them  during  the  war ;  their  barbarous  selfish- 
ness and  cowardice  were  no  longer  sustained  by  any  sentiment, 
however  brutal,  neither  by  religious  delusion,  by  the  hope  of 
plunder,  or  by  the  pleasure  men  find  in  a  life  of  adventure. 

A  multitude  of  uncivilized  men,  who  possess  nothing,  who 
have  no  longer  either  trade  or  laborious  habits  nor  the  first 
rudiments  of  morality,  who  have  lost  the  ardour  of  common 
enthusiasm,  which,  however  ferocious,  is  capable  of  com- 
municating a  certain  degree  of  strength  to  the  soul,  and  thus 
replace  ideals  ;  a  multitude  of  outcasts,  with  heads  yet  heavy 
from  an  orgie  of  blood  and  rapine,  they  had  not  the  moral 
strength  to  resist  an  oppression  exercised  by  means  of 
systematic  terror.  They  were  therefore  the  easiest  victims  of 
a  tyrannical  oligarchy.  There  is  a  great  difference  between 


80  MILITARISM 

the  blind  impulsive  courage  of  a  crowd,  due  to  an  enthusiasm 
which  drowns  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  and  the  con- 
scious and  reflective  courage  of  men  who  unite  to  oppose  a 
common  peril,  and  combine  with  a  view  to  the  general  good, 
repressing  by  a  conscious  effort  of  will  the  selfish  instincts 
which  urge  each  to  look  after  himself  without  giving  any 
thought  to  future  dangers.  The  lowest  class,  that  which 
lives  in  the  extremest  moral  misery,  is  capable,  on  certain 
occasions,  of  this  first  form  of  courage  ;  but  only  men  whose 
moral  conscience  is  well  developed  are  capable  of  the  latter. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  those  multitudes,  armed  with  spears 
and  swords,  intrepidly  assailed  fortresses  defended  by  rifles 
and  cannon,  and  then,  like  so  many  calves,  allowed  them- 
selves docilely  to  be  coerced  by  the  Caliph  and  a  few  Emirs. 
The  process  was  most  simple  by  which  this  tyranny 
was  established  over  the  warriors  who  had  taken  part  in 
the  Holy  War,  the  ancient  Dervish  horde,  as  also  over  those 
tribes  who  had  not  abandoned  their  former  life,  and  who  had 
thus  formed  the  non-military  portion  of  Soudan  society 
posterior  to  the  revolution.  The  Caliph  summoned  to  Om- 
durman,  the  capital  of  the  new  empire  built  on  the  banks  of 
the  Nile  near  the  ruins  of  Khartoum,  the  Arab  tribes  of 
Baggara,  pastoral  nomad  tribes  who  inhabited  Kordofan, 
and  were  adapted  by  their  life  and  customs  to  fulfil  the 
work  Abdullahi  apportioned  to  them.  The  Caliph,  like  all 
founders  of  tyrannies,  understood  that  it  was  necessary  to 
have  round  him  a  small  but  select  and  faithful  body-guard  ; 
he  felt  the  need  to  have  janissaries  and  praetorians  ;  and  in  a 
society  where  tribal  organization  is  so  strong,  on  whom  could 
he  depend  better  than  on  his  own  tribe  ?  Indeed,  he  was  a 
member  of  one  of  the  Baggara  tribes,  the  Baggara  Taisha, 
and  these,  like  the  rest,  had  taken  small  part  in  the  Holy  War. 


HORDES,    OR  THE   ORIGIN  OF  WAR  8 1 

He  persuaded  the  Baggara  to  change  their  rude  pastoral  life 
and  to  become  his  body-guard ;  he  ordered  them,  men, 
women,  and  children,  to  go  to  Omdurman  ;  he  assigned  to 
them  good  quarters,  handsome  salaries,  and  many  privileges  ; 
he  gave  them  almost  absolute  power  over  the  population, 
and  made  of  them  a  troop  of  several  thousand  well-chosen 
soldiers,  personally  devoted  to  himself,  and  interested  in  main- 
taining his  rule.  With  this  tool  he  managed  to  command 
the  remainder  of  the  army,  the  multitude  who  had  formed 
the  Dervish  horde,  and  which,  the  Holy  War  over,  he  forced 
to  continue  in  arms,  not  for  the  defence  of  the  faith,  but  for 
his  own  defence,  and  what  is  worse,  not  recompensing  them 
in  any  way.  He  thus  made  of  these  fanatics  and  warriors 
who  had  enlisted  voluntarily  to  fight  for  or  under  the  pre- 
text of  a  religious  war,  a  permanent,  army-  assigned  to  the 
service  of  his  greed,  who  were  under  the  obligation  of  life- 
long and  gratuitous  service  :  in  short,  a  multitude  of  armed 
slaves  of  whom  he  was  the  head.  How,  then,  were  these 
soldiers  to  exist  without  pay,  and  excluded,  moreover,  from 
any  participation  in  the  booty  of  war  ?  The  Caliph  did  not 
care  ;  he  needed  them  to  make  up  for  the  generosity  he  was 
forced  to  show  to  the  faithful  Baggara.  By  means  of  pilfering 
and  exploiting  the  population,  they  could  not  fail  to  draw 
an  existence,  a  miserable  one,  it  is  true,  but  which  enabled 
them  to  live  and  carry  out  the  expeditions  imposed  on  them 
by  the  Caliph.  When  discontent  at  this  hard  and  wretched 
life  urged  them  to  revolt,  he  crushed  them  down  with  terrific 
cruelty  by  means  of  his  faithful  Baggara. 

Thus  a  single  harsh  and  unscrupulous  man,  assisted  by 
a  few  Emirs  and  some  thousand  praetorians,  was  able  to 
oppress  for  several  years  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  armed 
men  ;  was  able  to  compel  them  to  render  perpetual  service 

F 


82  MILITARISM 

without  recompense ;  could  employ  them  constantly  in 
fatiguing  and  dangerous  expeditions  ;  and  yet  these  men, 
who  were  still  the  same  soldiers  who  had  conquered  the 
Egyptian  troops,  never  dared  turn  their  arms  against  their 
tyrants.  Does  this  appear  strange  ?  Those  who  under- 
stand the  true  nature  of  courage  and  cowardice  will  under- 
stand how  a  wretched  and  embrutened  multitude  like  the 
Dervish  horde  were  unable  to  resist,  when  the  excitement 
of  fanaticism  was  ended,  the  Caliph's  oppression.  The 
Caliph,  his  Emirs  and  praetorians,  were  like  a  single  body 
moved  by  a  single  will  to  fulfil  one  fixed  idea,  which  was  to 
maintain  their  own  rule  by  terror.  They  recognized  their 
power,  and  this  rendered  them  even  more  daring.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  hundred  thousand  soldiers  were  a  morally 
disintegrated  mass,  each  degraded  in  his  own  misery,  only 
feeling  his  own  individual  impotence  against  the  implacable 
power  of  the  ruling  oligarchy.  They  ought  to  have  united 
together  in  a  common  defence  ;  but  they  retained  too  little 
of  their  ancient  impetuous  courage,  and  what  little  remained 
only  found  expression  in  partial  rebellions,  the  fury  of  which 
soon  gave  way  to  make  room  for  abject  submission.  And 
thus  this  army  of  tens  of  thousands  was  compelled  to  serve 
for  several  years  a  single  man  supported  by  a  few  Emirs  and 
chosen  soldiers — a  clear  proof  that  the  habit  of  arms  and  the 
perils  of  war  can  be  combined  with  great  moral  cowardice, 
and  that  an  army  which  can  subdue  entire  unarmed  popula- 
tions may  easily  be  subdued  in  its  turn  by  a  handful  of 
more  resolute  ruffians. 


HORDES,   OR   THE   ORIGIN  OP    WAR  83 


V 

If  the  armed  soldiers  of  the  horde  allowed  themselves  to 
be  reduced  to  such  a  wretched  state  of  servitude,  how  could 
the  non-military  population  defend  itself  from  the  oppression 
of  those  tribes  who  had  favoured,  but  taken  no  direct  part 
in  the  revolution — all  that  population  which  continued  to 
labour,  and  which  therefore,  whether  rich  or  poor,  was  the 
victim  of  the  tyrant's  greed?  They  all  found  the  Caliph's 
Government,  born  of  the  revolution  which  they  had  so  in- 
cautiously favoured,  so  harsh  and  covetous  a  master,  that 
the  detested  Egyptian  in  comparison  could  be  looked  upon 
as  a  regime  of  paternal  benevolence.  The  Caliph  substituted 
for  the  wars  of  conquest  against  the  Egyptians,  expeditions 
against  the  internal  or  frontier  tribes,  whose  produce  went 
to  his  benefit ;  for  their  flocks  and  household  goods  were 
confiscated,  their  peoples  were  enslaved,  sold,  or  employed 
to  cultivate  the  stolen  land  for  their  conqueror's  advantage, 
while  their  most  beautiful  women  were  distributed  in  the 
harems  of  the  rich.  This  treatment  was  meted  out  equally 
to  those  tribes  who  favoured  the  Caliph's  Government  and 
to  those  who  opposed  it,  only  the  pretext  for  aggression 
varied  in  the  two  cases ;  though  any  pretext,  however,  sufficed 
to  exploit  even  the  tribes  who  would  have  willingly  acquiesced 
in  a  regular  regime  of  taxation  :  a  strange  administration 
whose  one  object  was  to  reduce  all  the  riches  of  the  Soudan 
to  the  patrimony  of  the  Caliph  and  his  Emirs.  These  latter 
were,  however,  only  allowed  to  enrich  themselves  in  order  that 
the  Caliph  might  kill  them  when  they  were  very  wealthy, 
and  confiscate  their  property.  Thus,  to  give  an  example, 
the  Jaalin  and  Dangola  Arab  tribes  lived  on  their  trade 


84  MILITARISM 

as  boatmen,  possessing  nearly  all  the  boats  which  navigated 
the  Nile.  The  Caliph,  who  wished  to  appropriate  the  boats, 
remembered  that  in  the  first  days  of  the  revolution,  when 
he  was  still  at  Kordofan,  almost  all  the  boatmen  had  re- 
fused to  follow  the  Mahdi,  or  to  favour  his  attempt.  He 
therefore  consulted  the  Council  of  the  Kadis,  a  sort  of 
supreme  judicial  court,  to  ask  whether  the  boats  should  not 
be  considered  as  "  ghanima,"  or  spoils  of  war  subject  to 
confiscation.  The  judges  were  not  of  this  opinion  ;  but  after 
lengthy  consideration  they  concluded  that  the  boatmen  were 
"  mukhalafin,"  or  unconvertible  people,  and  their  boats 
therefore  were  liable  all  the  same  to  expropriation.  The 
confiscation  was  made  without  previous  warning,  and  thus 
suddenly  the  wretched  boatmen  were  reduced  to  mendicity, 
and  all  died  of  hunger.  One  of  the  chief  sources  of  revenue 
to  the  Soudan  was  the  trade  in  what  we  call  gum-arabic, 
gathered  in  the  great  forests  of  the  Kordofan  by  the  Gimeh 
Arab  tribe,  and  transported  by  them  by  means  of  their 
numerous  herds  of  camels.  The  Caliph  one  day  took  it 
into  his  head  to  appropriate  these  herds  under  the  pretext 
that  the  Gimeh  had  disobeyed  his  command  to  make  a 
certain  pilgrimage.  The  Gimeh,  deprived  of  their  camels,  were 
forced  to  abandon  the  gum-arabic  commerce,  which  totally 
decayed  in  consequence,  and  no  other  means  of  existence 
remaining  to  them,  they  organized  themselves  into  bands  of 
brigands. 

The  ultimate  result  of  these  tactics  was  the  rapid  social 
decomposition  which  threatened  the  very  existence  of  Sou- 
danese society,  prior  to  the  Anglo-Egyptian  re-conquest. 
These  continued  confiscations  led  to  an  enormous  destruction 
of  wealth  which,  though  accumulated  in  the  treasuries  of  the 
Caliph  and  his  Emirs,  nevertheless  got  widely  dispersed, 


HORDES,   OR   THE   ORIGIN  OF   WAR  85 

whilst  the  precariousness  of  general  conditions  led  to  a 
rapid  diminution  in  the  number  of  men  capable  of  work 
or  producing  new  wealth.  Why  work  when  the  only  recom- 
pense for  labour  was  the  danger  of  being  robbed,  and  perhaps  I/ 
killed  ?  Better  become  beggars,  soldiers,  thieves,  and  brigands. 
Meanwhile  the  waste  of  wealth  increased  day  by  day  in 
a  regime  of  such  violence ;  production  diminished,  thus  pro- 
ducing an  ever-greater  disproportion  between  production 
and  consumption.  This,  again,  was  accompanied  by  fearful 
famines  which  exterminated  by  thousands  the  superfluous 
mouths,  like  the  terrible  famine  of  1889.  Thus  the  power 
of  the  Dervishes,  which  twelve  years  ago  appeared  to 
threaten  Egypt,  decayed  rapidly,  attacked  by  precocious 
old  age,  whose  principal  symptoms  were  depopulation  and 
the  rapid  disorganization  of  labour.  The  districts  formerly 
so  populous  became  deserted ;  the  fields  once  so  well  culti- 
vated were  abandoned,  and  nature  slowly  reasserted  her 
rights  ;  wild  beasts,  no  longer  decimated  by  men,  multiplied 
and  invaded  the  villages,  venturing  at  times  even  into  the 
streets  of  Omdurman,  devouring  women,  old  men,  children, 
and  even  adult  men  ;  work  slackened  throughout  the  Soudan, 
because  none  felt  assured  that  he  would  taste  the  fruits  of 
his  labour.  Only  those  professions  which  depend  on  the 
destruction,  and  not  on  the  production  of  wealth  flourished  : 
brigands,  usurers,  slave-merchants,  soldiers.  Every  energetic 
man  became  by  necessity  either  an  Emir  or  a  brigand.  The 
soldiers  degenerated  into  wild  and  famished  beasts,  who 
fought  partly  out  of  fear,  partly  in  the  hope  of  eating  a  little 
better  during  the  days  following  the  battle,  but  who  retained 
no  permanent  traces  of  their  old  courage. 

This  is  the  typical  history  of  a  horde  as  mirrored  in  this 
religious   movement   of  the    Dervishes,  which  succeeded  in 


86  MILITARISM 

establishing  an  immense  empire  in  the  Soudan  ruled  by  a 
narrow  military  oligarchy  of  Emirs  who  collected  round  that 
strange  adventurer,  the  lately  dethroned  Caliph.  Rarely  has 
history  witnessed  so  ferocious,  selfish,  and  greedy  a  tyranny, 
nor  one  so  implacable  in  plundering  the  riches  of  those 
territories  that  fell  into  his  hand.  Forty  or  fifty  families 
managed  to  devastate  a  district  so  enormous  that  a  whole 
army  would  have  been  deemed  insufficient  to  accomplish 
the  task. 

Entire  tribes  were  despoiled  of  their  flocks  and  chased 
from  their  land ;  industries  which  provided  for  hundreds  of 
tribes,  that  might  have  been  a  source  of  revenue  to  the  Govern- 
ment, were  destroyed  for  the  base  greed  of  selling  as  slaves 
the  men  who  formerly  lived  quietly  by  their  work  ;  the 
population  diminished  in  an  alarming  manner  in  the  most 
florid  districts,  and  the  Soudan,  devasted  by  Emirs  and 
brigands,  slowly  degenerated  into  a  desert  populated  by 
skeletons.  Terror  was  the  only  social  bond  remaining  to 
prevent  the  total  dissolution  of  society.  The  gibbets  erected 
in  every  village  were  the  only  emblems  of  authority.  Having 
thus  consumed  their  strength,  the  Dervishes  were  unable  to 
resist  the  Anglo- Egyptian  army.  A  society  almost  ruined  by 
the  rage  of  injustice  that  flourished  in  its  midst  was  natu- 
rally conquered  by  an  army  organized  and  led  by  a  highly 
civilized  community.  The  rough  and  bestial  Dervish  hordes, 
no  longer  sustained  by  the  blind  fanaticism  of  the  Mahdi's 
followers,  but  fighting  merely  out  of  fear  of  being  punished 
with  death,  could  not  long  resist  the  solid  Egyptian  battalions 
commanded  by  superior  English  officers.  The  most  civilized 
society  conquered,  and  peace  has  returned  to  the  Soudan. 

At  the  same  time  we  perceive  the  reason,  or  one  of  the 
reasons,  at  least,  which  explains  that  terrible  phenomenon  of 


HORDES,    OR    THE    ORIGIN  OF    WAR  87 

history  known  as  tyranny.  Why  amongst  the  men  called 
upon  to  govern  their  fellows  were  there  so  many  in  whom 
the  passion  for  emotion  expressed  itself  in  greed,  in  such 
violent  and  selfish  ambition  as  to  lead  an  entire  society  to 
ruin  ?  This  is  one  of  the  many-sided  aspects  of  the  great 
problem  of  evil.  Is  it  possible  that  so  much  wickedness 
should  have  no  other  effect  than  that  of  tormenting  men 
uselessly  and  undeservedly  ?  Considering  the  fate  of  all  the 
hordes  with  whose  history  we  are  acquainted,  how  they  all 
terminate  in  detestable  tyrannies,  we  are  able  to  conclude 
that  the  establishment  of  a  tyranny  is  the  inevitable  result  of 
the  moral  degeneration  of  the  majority  of  society  which  is 
the  effect  of  war,  and  is  a  secondary  evil  which  springs  from 
the  first.  But  as  the  debasement  of  the  tribe  results  from  the 
abandonment  of  their  previous  laborious  life,  from  the  habits 
of  vagabondage,  thoughtlessness,  rapine  and  cruelty  con- 
tracted in  war,  thus  the  tyranny  in  which  it  terminates  is  the 
punishment  of  the  neglect  of  certain  fundamental  duties  :  an 
expiation  which  fatally  follows  on  the  sin.  The  tyrant  is  an 
unconscious  arbitrator  of  justice  ;  his  triumphs,  which  appear 
its  supreme  negation,  are  only  one  of  the  most  complicated 
processes  by  which  justice  is  fulfilled.  The  tyrant  drags  his 
society  to  ruin  by  his  extravagances  ;  and  also  rushes  to  ruin 
himself.  Never  was  this  justice  carried  out  so  rapidly, 
entirely,  or  exemplarily  as  in  the  Soudan. 


VI 

Thus,  in  its  most  simple  and  primitive  form,  war  is  only 
an  outlet  for  the  instinct  of  destruction  inherent  in  man,  and 
has  no  other  function  than  to  destroy  material  things,  the 
established  habits  of  social  life  and  men  themselves. 


83  MILITARISM 

Hordes  are  a  form  of  society  which  live  in  the  illusion  that 
the  greatest  human  happiness  is  to  be  found  in  destruction. 
The  masses  allow  themselves  to  be  induced  to  abandon 
modest  and  monotonous  occupations  for  the  greed  of  wealth, 
for  the  pleasures  of  recklessness,  for  the  vanity  of  forming 
part  in  a  body  of  warriors  who  terrorize  multitudes,  and  who 
are  considered  far  and  wide  as  an  invincible  force  of  destruc- 
tion which  leaves  nothing  but  ruin  on  its  tracks.  All  this  is 
entered  on  in  the  hope  of  a  life  full  of  emotions  and  sensual 
pleasures.  The  improvidence  of  primitive  men  prevents  them 
from  recognizing  that  such  a  life  can  but  be  of  short  duration, 
•^because  the  material  on  which  to  vent  their  passion  for 
destruction  comes  to  an  end,  and  the  inevitable  crisis  brings 
painful  disillusion.  Then  follows  the  tyranny  of  a  few,  who, 
owing  to  the  general  state  of  degradation,  are  able  to  use  the 
horde  for  their  own  benefit,  and  to  enrich  themselves  by 
robbery  and  exploitation,  and  rule,  not  by  benefiting  but  by 
tormenting  others.  Greed  and  ambition  become  their  sole 
passions,  and  they  satisfy  them  to  the  ruin  of  the  entire  society. 
The  horde,  whose  existence  is  based  on  this  great  illusion, 
traverses  a  brief  period  of  great  prosperity  on  the  way  to  its 
perdition. 

In  horde-life  man  found  for  the  first  time  how  full  of  error 
and  peril  was  the  terrible  delusion  that  happiness  could  be 
found  in  destruction  ;  how  much  which  appears  at  first  to  be 
pleasant  proved  to  be  full  of  pain  and  bitterness  because, 
after  giving  a  passing  satisfaction,  it  led  to  permanent  un- 
happiness.  This  illusion  first  taught  man  that  life  was  like 
an  enchanted  wood,  full  of  sweet  deceits,  of  beautiful  and 
fatal  things.  Woe  to  him  who,  in  the  deepest  labyrinths  of 
the  wood,  falls  a  prey  to  the  intoxicating  delights  which 
tempt  him  on  all  sides  !  Hidden  among  the  trunks  he  finds 


HORDES,    OR    THE    ORIGIN  OF   WAR  89 

delicious  honeycombs  ;  but  woe  betide  him  if  he  yields  to 
the  temptation  to  taste  this  poisoned  honey  !  The  shade  of 
the  fair  trees  is  refreshing  and  cool  in  the  fierce  midday  heat ; 
but  he  who,  unable  to  resist  its  invitation,  lies  down  in  it  to 
sleep,  awakes  diseased,  for  fever  lurks  unseen  in  that  innocent 
shade.  All  the  trees  bend  down  their  branches  laden  with 
delicious  fruit  within  reach  of  his  hand  ;  but  alas !  he  who 
tastes  them  falls  victim  to  an  intoxication  which  does  not  pass, 
and  which  deprives  him  in  the  end  of  reason.  Who  can 
hope  to  traverse  this  wood  without  yielding  to  its  thousand 
seductions,  apparently  so  full  of  pleasure  ?  The  austere  man 
who  never  indulges  in  voluptuous  repose  ;  he  who  searches 
under  the  surface  for  the  few  hidden  roots  of  simple  taste, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  these  noxious  delights,  can  alone 
increase  his  strength,  intelligence,  and  health. 

But  this  wisdom  and  self-control,  as  we  shall  see  later  on, 
are  only  the  slow  work  of  a  long  civilization.  The  Christian 
legend  of  the  sinner  who  sells  his  soul  to  the  devil  in  order 
to  enjoy  the  brief  delights  of  this  life,  symbolizes  well  the 
history  of  the  human  race,  since  at  every  moment  we  see 
men  paying  for  an  hour's  joy  with  ages  of  misery,  and  one 
thoughtless  and  ignorant  generation  destroying,  in  order  to 
satisfy  some  caprice,  the  happiness  of  their  children  and 
children's  children. 


THE    DEFECTS    OF    ANCIENT 
CIVILIZATIONS 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  DEFECTS  OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS 

I 

ANCIENT  civilizations  appear  to  us  as  an  immense  battle- 
field, a  vast  cemetery  of  peoples.  Tribes,  nations,  great 
empires  and  small  states  only  emerge  in  order  to  destroy 
the  tribes,  peoples,  empires  and  states  that  preceded  them, 
to  be  in  their  turn  destroyed  by  other  rivals.  Nations  seemed 
only  born  to  die  a  violent  death  ;  their  lives  generally  began 
with  a  victory  and  ended  with  a  defeat  which  entailed,  in 
most  cases,  not  merely  the  effacing  from  history  of  the 
name  of  a  state,  but  the  physical  destruction  of  an  entire 
society.  Every  work  of  art,  of  science,  of  politics  appears  to 
have  had  no  other  object  in  the  distant  past  than  that  of 
fostering  war,  of  covering  the  earth  with  costly  ashes. 

But  since  these  ancient  societies  were  nearly  all  capable  of 
creating  a  civilization,  an  industry,  a  commerce,  a  philosophy, 
an  art,  it  is  not  rash  to  claim  for  the  frequency  and  violence") 
of  war  that  it  served  some  purpose,  that  it  had  some  influence^ 
on  life  and  thought.     In  other  words,  it  is  difficult  to  admit 
that  war   in  this  case  was  nothing  else  but,  like  with  the    , 
hordes,  the  outlet  for  an  instinct  of  destruction  ;  that  it  had  not 
a  more  profound  cause  is  an  effect  at  least  partially  beneficial. 
What  were  its  causes,  what  its  object  and  influences  ?     Let  us 
attempt  to  solve  this  question  by  studying  some  of  the  general 


94  MILITARISM 

characteristics  and  weaknesses  inherent  in  the  constitution  of 
ancient  civilizations  which  appear  to  us  to  rank  among  the 
chief  causes  of  the  warlike  spirit  of  former  times. 

There  were  four  distinct  types  of  ancient  society.  The 
rudest  were  the  nomad  or  semi-nomad  tribes,  composed  of 
barbarians  who,  though  possessing  the  first  rudiments  of 
agriculture,  lived  chiefly  as  shepherds,  an  unsettled  life 
which  rendered  it  easy  for  them  to  unite  into  hordes  for 
warlike  purposes.  The  tribes  were  usually  ruled  under  an 
aristocratic  constitution,  by  a  nobility  composed  of  the  richest 
and  most  courageous  families,  those  who  possessed  most 
cattle,  lands,  slaves,  and  precious  metals.  Sometimes  a  king 
presided  as  chief.  The  best  known  of  these  ancient  societies 
were  the  Gallic  tribes  previous  to  the  Roman  conquest. 
These  possibly  represent  the  highest  degree  of  civilization 
and  stability  to  which  such  societies  could  attain  before 
evolving  into  that  form  of  society  which  is  really  repre- 
sentative of  ancient  civilization. 

Amongst  these  the  most  prosperous  in  Asia  were  the 
military  empires,  such  as  the  Assyrian,  the  Babylonian,  the 
Egyptian,  and  the  Persian.  These  empires  extended  over 
vast  territories,  but  their  chief  seat  of  government  was 
generally  centred  in  a  town  built  on  the  banks  of  a  river  and 
situated  in  the  centre  of  a  continent.  They  derived  their 
I/  power  principally  from  their  dominion  over  the  land  ;  the 
greater  number  of  their  soldiers  were  drawn  from  the 
peasant  class.  It  was,  therefore,  to  the  interest  of  these  states 
to  encourage  agriculture  by  fostering  those  great  public — and 
especially  hydraulic — works  which  ranked  among  the  chief 
glories  of  Oriental  monarchies,  and  to  which  are  due  the  first 
great  attempts  at  irrigating  the  Nile,  the  Tigris,  and  the 
Euphrates.  The  social  constitution  of  military  empires  was 


THE   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS      95 

in  some  cases  aristocratic,  in  others  democratic.  In  the  first 
case — as,  for  instance,  in  the  Assyrian  Empire— the  high  civil 
and  military  posts  were  reserved  by  legal  and  hereditary 
privilege  to  a  certain  number  of  families  who  formed  the 
nobility  ;  in  the  second  case,  as  we  see  from  the  eleventh 
Egyptian  dynasty,  they  were  bestowed  by  means  of  examin- 
ations and  promotion,  without  regard  to  birth,  to  professional 
functionaries  ;  men  of  all  social  conditions  being  admitted 
even  to  the  highest  places.  A  sovereign — almost  always 
hereditary — presided  over  the  administration  and  nobility. 
He  lived  in  a  magnificently  luxurious  court,  he  was  resplendent 
with  precious  gems  and  metals,  and  governed  his  nation 
despotically  with  the  help  of  the  great  functionaries.  The 
army,  composed  chiefly  of  peasants  and  vanquished  popula- 
tions, was  generally  recruited  by  force,  and  kept  together  by 
terror.  The  empire  consisted  of  vast  lands  cultivated  by  the 
peasantry,  and  a  few  big  cities,  sometimes  one  only,  grandiose 
according  to  the  taste  of  the  period,  in  which  were  accumu- 
lated riches,  provisions,  and  luxuries — ranging  from  precious 
metals  to  the  books  of  the  wise,  from  industry  to  the  fine  arts. 
Industry  and  commerce,  not  agriculture,  were  the  chief 
sources  of  the  prosperity  of  such  mercantile  towns  as  Tyre, 
Sidon,  and  Carthage.  These  were  situated  on  the  sea-coast, 
and  were  governed  by  a  rich  oligarchy,  who  were  at  one 
and  the  same  time  capitalists,  ship-owners,  and  merchants, 
possessing  large  fleets  but  no  armies.  These  vessels  they 
used  ordinarily  for  commerce,  but  in  case  of  need  they 
employed  them  also  for  warfare— turning  their  commercial 
fleet  into  a  military  fleet. 

These  oligarchies  did  not  aim  at  conquering  lands,  but  at  < 
possessing  the  knowledge  that  should  enable  them  to  be  the 
masters  of  distant  markets. 


96  MILITARISM 

The     agrarian-commercial    states    of   the    Italo-Graecian 

/order,  where  a  class  of  landowners  and  merchants  contested 

and  divided  power,  were  more  complex  and  original.     Power 

was  exercised  by  magistrates  elected  by  the  citizens.      The 

militia  was  no  compulsory  service,  to  enter  it  was  regarded  as 

\/ 

a  high  privilege  of  citizens ;  and  whether  peasants,  rich  pro- 
prietors, artisans,  or  merchants,  they  alone  had  the  right  to 
take  part  in  war.  The  cities  were  ruled  now  aristocratically 
when  only  the  richer  portion  of  the  population  were  in 
power  ;  now  democratically  when  all,  or  the  greater  part  of 
the  citizens,  participated  in  the  Government ;  in  both  cases, 
however,  the  Government  was  an  oligarchy,  for  the  citizens 
were  only  a  portion  of  the  population,  outside  of  which  there 
existed  numerous  clients — foreigners  and  slaves  who  had  no 
v  political  rights.  ,. 

II 

These  various  forms  of  society,  both  barbarous  and 
civilized,  had  one  great  defect  which  prevented  them  from 
rising  above  a  certain  level  of  ferocity  and  brutality, 
although  able  to  conceive  moral  philosophies  of  extraordinary 
perfection.  This  defect  was  the  principal  cause  why  ancient 
civilizations  were  so  unstable  and  wars  so  frequent :  i.e.  the 
difficulty  they  had  in  finding  new  productive  employment  for 
V  accumulated  capital,  a  condition  of  things  which  was  partly 
the  cause  and  partly  the  effect  of  the  unlaborious  habits  of 
the  population. 

The  facility  of  productive  investment  for  capital  is  quite  a 
recent  development,  due  partly  to  the  great  scientific  and 
technical  progress  of  our  times,  partly  to  the  abundance  of 
accumulated  riches  and  of  men  ready  to  work,  also  to  the 


THE   DEFECTS    OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS      97 

vast  unexplored  and  uninhabited  territories  that  have  come 
into  our  possession.  Owing  to  these  fortunate  conditions,  out- 
lets for  human  energy  are  varied  and  multiplied  daily,  for 
since,  as  there  is  an  excess  of  supply,  men  are  able  to  turn 
their  vigour  to  the  production  of  new  things,  with  the  result 
that  an  unprecedented  abundance  has  been  rained  into  the 
earth,  rendering  it  possible  for  all  to  produce  and  consume. 
These  conditions  have  altered  our  mode  of  life,  and  introduced 
the  habits  of  continued  and  methodical  daily  work.  The  love 
of  labour  is  always  proportionate  to  its  difficulties  and  to 
the  liberality  of  its  recompense.  Hence  in  our  civilization, 
where  work  is  easy  and  fruitful,  it  tends,  with  the  increase  of 
population,  of  consumption  and  civilization,  to  become  every 
day  more  universal  and  intense.  The  characteristic  type  of 
our  age  is  the  busy  man,  always  anxious  to  produce  and 
consume  as  much  as  possible.  In  this  wise  the  productiveness 
of  work  increases,  as  it  were,  geometrically. 

This  was  not  the  case  with  ancient  civilization.  The  only 
productive  employments  for  capital — either  in  the  hands  of 
individuals  or  the  state — were  the  following : — 

1.  The  construction  of  cities,  roads,  bridges  and  hydraulic 
works  which  served  for  agriculture  and  communication. 

2.  The  acquisition  of  lands,  tools  and  slaves,  to  plough  and 
cultivate  the  same. 

3.  The  acquisition  of  slaves   required  for  domestic  work, 
to  serve  their  masters,  wear  his  clothes,  make  his  furniture 
and  build  his  house  ;  to  do  all  the  roughest  work  and  to  serve 
as  sailors,  stablemen,  and  crews. 

4.  The  construction  of  land  and  water  vehicles  and  the 
acquisition   of    goods   for    trading.      The    most    profitable 
commerce    in    the    ancient   world   was    done    by   sea,   and 
speculated  upon  the  great  differences  of  price  that  prevailed 

G 


98  MILITARISM 

in  countries  between  which  communication  was  difficult  and 
in  which  the  degree  of  civilization — that  profound  factor  in 
the  value  of  goods — was  so  diverse.  In  fact,  the  object  of 
commerce  anciently  was  to  buy  objects  from  barbarians  who 
/  could  not  appreciate  them,  at  a  low  price. 

5.  The  acquisition  of  the  simple  instruments  used  in  the 
industry  of  the  period  for  weaving,  mechanical  work,  etc. 

Population  was  never  very  dense  in  ancient  times.     This 
rendered  the  cultivation  of  the  land  more  difficult ;    great 
J expanses  of  land  had  to  be  abandoned  owing  to  scarcity 
of  hands,  or  on  account  of  the  solitude  and  wildness  of  their 
situation,  rendered   impracticable   through  forests,  marshes, 
and  wild   beasts.     The  very  limited    agrarian   development 
which  resulted  indirectly  restricted  the  progress  of  industrial 
labour,  for  many  industries  cannot  exist  without  a  large  class 
of  agriculturists  to  provide  the  raw  material  in  exchange  for 
the  products  of  industrial  work.      Industrial    employments 
were  only  practicable  for  small  capitalists,  because  they  were 
always  exercised  by  free  artisans  who  provided  themselves 
with  their  own  inexpensive  tools.     Any  extensive  industry, 
carried   on   by  great   capitalists  with  the   aid  of  numerous 
workers,  was  an  unknown  thing  in  the  old  world,  excepting 
in  the  mining  industry.     Mines  worked  by  great  capitalists 
with   multitudes   of  slaves  were  common  things,  but  other 
more  refined  industries,  such  as  the  mechanical  and  manu- 
facturing,   carried   on   by   capitalists   in    large    offices,   with 
numerous  employees,  whether  free  or  serfs— of  this  we  only 
find  some  trace  in  the  history  of  Athens  in  the  fifth  century. 
Commerce  offered  the  possibility  of  medium  gains,  greater, 
that  is  to  say,  than  industry  and  smaller  than  agriculture.     A 
man  who  owned  sufficient  money  to  build  himself  a  ship,  buy 
a  few  goods  and  some  slaves,  could  try  his  luck  in  trade.   We 


THE   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS      99 

read  in  Plautus  that  commerce  was  the  resource  of  young 
men  who  had  ruined  themselves  with  excesses.  When  they 
found  themselves  on  their  last  legs  they  collected  what  little 
money  remained,  bought  a  ship,  and  tried  their  fortune. 
But  it  was  not  usual  for  a  merchant,  who  had  once  enriched 
himself,  to  invest  his  gains  in  new  ships  in  order  indefinitely 
to  extend  his  business.  Commerce  in  those  times  was  too 
risky  a  matter ;  besides,  the  development  of  trade  was  not 
rapid  enough  to  justify  this  course.  An  enriched  merchant 
bought  land,  houses,  etc.,  and  sought  to  become  a  rentier. 

In  short,  the  only  good  investment  for  large  capitals  was 
in  agriculture,  though  even  this,  in  comparison  to  modern 
civilization,  was  very  restricted. 


Ill 

The  consequence  of  all  this  was  that  the  ancients  lived  in 
small  communities,  and  contented  themselves  with  working 
and  consuming  little.  If  some  fine  morning  an  ancient 
Egyptian,  Assyrian,  or  Greek,  were  suddenly  reanimated  in 
Oxford  Street,  preserving  recollections  of  the  world  in  which 
he  lived,  at  the  sight  of  so  many  people  hurrying  in  the  same 
direction  he  would  imagine  that  something  extraordinary  was 
happening  in  London  :  a  catastrophe,  a  festival,  a  procession, 
the  return  of  some  victorious  king.  It  would  never  occur  to 
him  that  all  this  bustle  was  a  daily  occurrence,  representing 
the  urgent  desire  and  need  of  numbers  to  reach  in  time  their 
day's  work,  which  rarely  lasts  less  than  six  or  seven  hours. 
The  ancients,  with  a  few  exceptions — such  as  the  slaves  in 
the  mines,  who  were  overburdened  till  they  nearly  died  of 
exhaustion — worked  little,  both  the  higher  and  lower  classes.  ~ 

The    rich    and     powerful    (whose     riches    were    derived 


100  MILITARISM 

principally  from  lands  and  cattle),  when  they  were  not  busy 
with  state  affairs,  had  no  other  care  than  to  pass  their  time 
in  the  midst  of  dissipations :  hunting,  feasts,  balls,  spectacles, 
gallant  adventures  ;  consuming  the  rents  of  their  estates, 
which  they  left  in  the  hands  of  agents  and  rarely  visited. 
Thus  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  higher  classes  in  these 
societies  was  idleness,  the  lack  of  any  profound  and  serious 
habit  of  work :  such  can  be  observed  even  in  their  particular 
kind  of  work,  politics  and  war.  What  deliberateness  in 
ancient  combats  and  politics !  Sieges  and  wars  lasted  for 
years,  months  were  wasted  in  bringing  about  some  small 
state  reform,  or  concluding  simple  diplomatic  treaties. 
Their  administration  and  diplomacy  resembled  very  closely 
that  of  modern  Turkey.  The  men  at  the  head  of  the  state 
were  good  fellows,  who  wanted  to  enjoy  their  lives  like  every 
one  else,  consequently  matters  of  great  urgency  were  fre- 
quently postponed  in  order  that  they  should  not  interfere 
with  some  festival  or  other  entertainment.  Only  in  the 
extremest  moments,  when  face  to  face  with  imminent  danger, 
did  the  habitual  indolence  of  these  regimes  give  way  to  a 
frenzy  of  activity  capable  of  immense  efforts.  In  ordinary 
times  it  was  hopeless  to  expect  of  them  the  continuous 
alacrity,  always  on  the  watch,  of  the  well-governed  states 
of  our  day,  because  in  the  habits  and  character  of  the  ruling 
classes  of  that  period  there  was  a  little  of  that  indolence 
which  nowadays  we  only  find  in  viveurs.  In  ancient  states, 
even  those  at  the  head  of  the  social  hierarchy  were  cha- 
racterized by  the  indifference  of  men  who  work  little  and 
abuse  pleasure,  like  our  dissolute  rich,  who,  in  the  opinion 
of  contemporary  morality,  are  the  most  despicable  portion 
of  the  modern  upper  classes. 

Antiquity  does  not  afford   the  phenomenon  of  the  busy 


DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  Cli'lu£XttoN$*  * 


man.  Great  and  small  merchants,  ambulating  vendors,  and 
shopkeepers  were  more  anxious  then  than  now  to  pass  their 
time  lounging  about  their  shops,  gossiping  with  their  cus- 
tomers and  passers-by.  A  merchant's  work  in  olden  times 
had  nothing  in  common  with  the  drudgery  of  our  modern 
tradesmen,  who  every  day  has  to  conceive  new  projects, 
direct  the  execution  of  contracts,  and  resolve  the  innumer- 
able difficulties  which  continually  present  themselves.  The 
merchant  of  old  was  capitalist  and  privateer  in  one,  who 
invested  his  moneys  in  ships,  and  generally  navigated  his 
own  vessel  when  he  set  forth  to  exchange  his  goods  in  various 
ports.  His  life  was  thus  hard  physically,  but  not  mentally, 
He  had  to  put  up  with  the  fatigues  of  travel  in  an  age  which 
ignored  sleeping-cars  and  transatlantic  liners  ;  he  had  to 
face  the  perils  of  seafaring  in  a  fragile  boat,  and  the  dangers 
of  commerce  with  barbarians  in  an  epoch  which  knew  neither 
consuls  nor  state  protection  in  foreign  lands.  But  the  nature 
of  his  business  scarcely  ever  varied,  or  did  so  very  slowly. 
He  had  to  deal  with  scant  competition  ;  his  commerce 
demanded  little  culture  —  the  result  of  study  and  fatigue  — 
but  considerable  cunning,  which  is  a  natural  gift,  and  he 
had  not  to  worry  his  brain  further  than  to  find  some  new 
trick  for  deceiving  his  clients. 

The  populace  willingly  followed  the  example  of  their 
betters.  Factory  inspectors  were  not  needed  then  to  insure 
artisans  and  peasants  against  overworking  or  unsanitary 
conditions.  Unwittingly  they  applied  the  most  perfect 
hygienic  rules  to  their  work,  exercising  that  precaution  not 
to  exhaust  their  strength,  which  is  displayed  by  primitive 
men,  when  working,  not  under  a  severe  master,  but  under 
the  stimulus  of  their  own  zeal.  Virgil  describes,  in  his 
"  Georgics,"  the  life  of  the  small  Latin  proprietor,  which  he 


102  MILITARISM 

holds  up  as  an  example  of  austere  industry  to  the  proletariat, 
who  idly  lounged  about  the  theatres  and  forums  of  Rome. 
And  yet  how  sweet  was  that  life  in  comparison  with  that 
of  a  modern  workman  !  The  small  proprietor  only  had  to 
apply  the  traditional  agrarian  practices  which  descended 
from  father  to  son,  no  inventive  effort  was  demanded  of  him 
to  better  his  technique.  All  the  agriculture  which  Virgil 
describes  is  so  simple  that  the  peasant  could  easily  achieve 
it  with  ordinary  industry  during  the  spring  and  autumn 
months.  The  heaviest  work  consisted  in  sowing  and  reaping 
the  corn,  and  even  this  was  done  by  the  peasant,  not  under 
the  harsh  direction  of  a  master,  but  under  the  far  sweeter 
stimulus  of  his  own  zeal  and  the  consciousness  of  his  own 
interests.  Autumn,  moreover,  ended  in  the  vintage  festivals, 
and  winter  was  nothing  but  one  long  repose,  an  uninterrupted 
merrymaking  and  hunting  season. 

"  Mutuaque  inter  se  laeti  convivia  curant  ; 
Invitat  genialis  hiems  curasque  rcsolvit." 

(i.  301,  302). 

Still  idler,  perhaps,  was  the  life  of  the  town  worker,  men 
whose  laziness  was  encouraged  by  the  numerous  amusements 
and  attractions  the  city  offered.  Political  and  religious 
festivals  were  innumerable  in  ancient  society,  and  they  all 
formed  an  excellent  excuse  for  both  rich  and  poor  to  pass 
their  time  in  lounging  about,  and  in  amusements  of  all 
kinds.  For  certain  peoples — such  as  the  Athenians — poli- 
tics were  an  extra  distraction,  because  when  the  tribunals 
sat,  or  assemblies  of  citizens  were  convoked,  shoemakers, 
iron-founders,  dyers,  and  carpenters  left  their  work  or  shops 
to  take  part  in  the  meeting  of  one  or  other  party ;  to  attend 
some  noisy  trial  in  which  the  speeches  of  celebrated  rheto- 
ricians of  the  hour  were  to  be  read.  In  any  case,  as  ancient 


THE   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS      103 

industry  was  chiefly  composed  of  artisans  who  worked  in 
their  own  homes  and  then  sold  their  goods  to  wholesale 
merchants,  their  labour  was  necessarily  far  less  hard  than 
that  to  which  modern  factory  workmen  are  condemned, 
because  it  was  much  less  disciplined.  A  free  artisan  works 
when  he  likes  ;  he  varies  his  working-hours  every  day  accord- 
ing to  his  inclination  ;  he  is  not  obliged  willy-nilly  to  slave 
a  certain  number  of  hours,  and  to  overcome  his  weariness. 
Those  days  when  he  feels  disinclined  for  work,  he  is  not 
subjected  to  the  tedious  discipline  of  time-tables  and  over- 
seers charged  to  convert  all  his  energy  into  a  useful  product. 
What  a  difference  there  exists,  in  hardship  and  productive- 
ness, between  ancient  and  modern  labour,  even  considered 
independently  of  the  instruments  which  served  in  the  two 
cases ! 


IV 

Consumption  and  production  were  alike  small.  Ancient 
living  was  poor  and  simple  in  comparison  with  ours.  The 
ancients  were  not  acquainted  with  tobacco,  coffee,  tea,  sugar 
nor  alcohol.  They  were  used  to  simpler  food  than  we  are, 
excepting  when  they  viciously  abandoned  themselves  to 
inexcusable  orgies.  They  dressed  much  less,  so  that  neither 
hats  nor  shoes  were  objects  of  ordinary  use,  even  in  the  most 
prosperous  periods ;  they  lived  in  small  houses,  and  had 
most  imperfect  means  of  transporting  goods  and  com- 
municating thoughts  to  distant  countries  ;  their  technique 
was  simple,  and  therefore  inexpensive.  Ancient  life  was 
totally  lacking  in  comfort,  in  all  those  numerous  little  objects 
that  render  modern  existence  so  expensive,  and  which  have 
became  so  necessary  to  men  who  have  to  work  as  hard  as  we 


104  MILITARISM 

do.  Subject,  as  we  are,  to  continuous  mentally  exhausting 
work,  we  need  to  ^recuperate  every  evening  the  nervous 
energies  spent  during  the  day ;  we  could  not  exist  in  dark 
unheated  houses,  go  out  semi-nude,  abstain  from  all  nourish- 
ment which  stimulates  the  nervous  system,  nor  sleep  on 
hard  beds  like  the  Romans  under  the  Empire.  The  house 
of  a  well-to-do  London  merchant  of  our  times  consequently 
contains  more  comforts  than  did  that  of  a  Roman  senator. 
The  houses  of  the  rich,  more  especially  the  Roman,  used  to 
be  true  works  of  art,  with  their  ebony  ceilings  inlaid  with 
ivory,  with  their  fine  marble  pavements  ;  their  frescoed  walls 
and  halls  adorned  with  splendid  statues,  either  original  or 
copied  from  the  Greek  masterpieces ;  their  rich  and  precious 
furniture,  their  silver  or  gold  plate.  Even  the  kitchen  utensils, 
pans  and  saucepans,  in  grand  houses  were  frequently  articles 
de  virtu  worked  and  engraved  by  skilful  hands.  And  yet 
these  sumptuous  dwellings  were  badly  illuminated,  because 
that  ingenious  arrangement  of  windows  and  skylights,  to 
which  we  owe  our  good  lighting,  was  lacking  in  Roman 
houses.  The  means  of  defence  against  cold  were  still  more 
meagre  ;  the  richest  Romans  might  eat  at  a  silver  table 
from  a  golden  service,  but  they  did  not  possess  any  machine 
resembling  those  comfortable  stoves  which  a  modest  bourgeois, 
living  in  town,  possesses  to-day.  Noctural  illumination  was 
practically  not  existent.  It  appears  that  Rome  under  the 
Empire  was  the  only  city  of  the  ancient  world  where  any 
attempt  was  made  to  light  the  streets,  the  custom  being  for 
every  one  to  carry  lanterns.  As  to  the  illumination  of  houses, 
if  an  ancient  millionaire  were  to  come  to  life  again  now,  he 
would  consider  even  the  little  petroleum  lamps  as  something 
magnificent.  The  Romans  conquered  the  world,  and  built  the 
Coliseum,  but  they  did  not  know  how  to  make  artificial  light. 


THE  DEFECTS   OF  AMCtE'NT  CIVILIZATIONS      1 05 

The  following  little  fact  is  even  more  curious.  The 
Roman  senators  only  began  to  mal*e  use  of  cushions  in 
theatres  in  the  era  of  Caligula.  Till  his  time  they  had  sat 
on  bare  and  hard  wooden  benches.  Therefore  these  masters 
of  the  world,  these  rich  men  of  the  Empire,  did  not  attend 
spectacles  in  greater  comfort  than  the  workmen  of  our  time 
who  frequent  the  gallery. 

Wealth  in  olden  times,  in  short,  was  generally  combined 
with  a  large  degree  of  slovenliness:  personal  slovenliness, 
slovenliness  in  the  houses,  slovenliness  in  the  streets,  sloven- 
liness in  towns. 

Washing  appears  to  us  to  be  an  elementary  principle  of 
life  ;  and  yet  a  long  time  passed  before  men  took  to  the 
habit  sufficiently  to  feel  its  need.  It  is  true  that  in  some 
societies  bathing  was  a  universal  practice ;  but  bathing  with 
the  ancients  was  quite  another  matter  to  what  it  is  now  :  it 
was  rather  a  voluptuous  passion  than  a  cleanly  habit — a  vice 
which,  in  a  certain  degree,  corresponded  to  our  modern  vice 
of  smoking,  unknown  in  those  times.  People  did  not  bathe 
themselves  then  for  the  sake  of  cleanliness,  but  as  a  means 
of  passing  the  time,  for  the  pleasure  of  splashing  about  in 
tepid  water,  and  of  artificially  varying  the  temperature  of 
their  bodies  ;  sometimes  with  the  object  of  complicating  the 
lasciviousness  of  love.  So  true  is  it  that  cleanliness  had  very 
little  to  do  with  this  passion  for  baths,  that  it  frequently 
happened  in  the  Thermae  for  several  people  to  bathe 
together  in  not  very  large  tanks,  where  the  water  necessarily 
soon  became  very  dirty.  The  bath  was  as  much  a  voluptuous 
gratification  as  dancing,  music,  wine,  or  women  ;  conse- 
quently, at  that  period,  when  sensual  enjoyments  so  easily 
became  morbid  passions,  there  was  a  true  sybaritism  of  bath- 
ing, and  there  were  people  who  abused  bathing,  as  others 


106  MILITARISM 

abused   wine   and  women,  taking   five,   six,  seven,   eight    a 
day,  eating,  reading,  or  sleeping  in  their  tubs. 

This  is  proved  by  the  modest  Cinderella  station  held  in  the 
world  of  toilette  in  all  military  civilizations  by  soap,  which 
now  reigns  supreme.  Formerly  the  post  now  occupied  by 
soap  was  held  by  perfumes,  substances  capable  of  affording 
sensual  pleasure.  Both  men  and  women  always  scented  their 
entire  bodies  ;  they  perfumed  their  clothes,  their  beds  ;  they 
burnt  incense  in  their  rooms  ;  they  even  scented  their  food 
and  drink.  The  number  and  variety  of  their  perfumes, 
almost  all  imported  from  the  Orient,  were  infinite,  wherefore 
the  modern  world  would  strike  a  man  of  that  period  as  a 
world  without  perfume.  Thus  odours  formed  a  great  article 
of  commerce  in  the  ancient  world,  whilst  of  the  industry  of 
soap  making  there  is  scarcely  a  trace.  It  would  seem  that 
the  Romans  were  acquainted  with  soap  in  the  days  of  Pliny 
the  Elder,  deriving  their  knowledge  from  the  barbarian 
peoples  of  the  North. 


V 

The  three  principal  vices  of  ancient  civilization  were  :  the 
small  opportunity  for  increasing  the  riches  and  productive 
power  of  capital,  the  universal  lack  of  industry,  the  poverty 
and  simplicity  of  life — cause  and  result  of  the  previous  factors. 
On  the  other  hand,  habits  of  simple  and  poor  living  where 
little  is  consumed  generate  a  species  of  resistance  and 
psychological  aversion  to  augmenting  the  products  for 
consumption.  Men  nowadays  augment  these  products 
and  easily  contract  fresh  habits  because  they  are  used  to 
this  constant  change,  and  find  pleasure  in  it.  But  this  is  a 
custom  artificially  acquired,  for  man  is  naturally  a  misorieist, 


Till-:   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS       IO/ 

and  tends  to  persevere  in  habits  once  formed.  Thus  the  very 
simplicity  of  living,  which  was  partly  the  effect  of  the  small 
productiveness  of  capital,  rendered  the  development  of  labour 
in  its  turn,  more  difficult. 

Neglect  also  has  its  torpid  pleasures,  its  inert  delights, 
which  men  addicted  to  hard  work  cannot  understand,  as  a 
lazy  man  cannot  appreciate  the  keen  satisfaction  of  activity. 
What  represents  supreme  happiness  to  one,  appears  to  the 
other  as  intolerable  tedium  and  suffering.  The  principal 
difference  between  ancient  and  modern  civilization  is,  perhaps, 
to  be  found  in  this  diversity  in  the  ideal  of  happiness.  But 
although  in  the  ancient  world  the  possibility  and  desire  to 
multiply  the  products  of  labour  were  small,  the  commonest 
form  taken  by  the  thirst  for  emotion — greed — was  not  lack- 
ing. In  ancient  times,  as  in  modern,  there  were  always  a  few 
thoughtful  and  learned  men  amongst  those  who  ruled  states, 
but  the  majority — then  as  now — consisted  in  men  who 
sought  to  satisfy  the  strongest  human  passion,  that  of  power, 
by  accumulating  and  increasing  wealth.  It  is  a  common 
observation  that  the  desire  for  riches  grows  with  the  posses- 
sion thereof;  that  wealthy  men  are  never  satiated,  because 
acquirement  facilitates  further  acquisition,  and  this  facility  is 
a  new  incentive  to  covetousness. 

What  is  true  of  the  modern  man  is  true  of  the  ancient, 
with  this  variation,  however,  that  owing  to  the  different 
constitution  of  society,  these  indefinite  possibilities  of  greed 
were  formerly  a  great  factor  in  the  dissolution  and  ruin  of 
society.  In  an  age  like  ours,  where  productive  investments 
are  innumerable  and  always  on  the  increase,  those  minorities 
anxious  to  enrich  themselves  who  are  at  the  head  of  society 
can  find  satisfaction,  not  by  diminishing  but  by  increasing 
the  wealth  of  the  whole  community,  employing  their  money  in 


lo8  MILITARISM 

speculations,  in  industrial,  commercial,  and  banking  schemes, 
all  of  which,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  of  which  we  shall 
speak  of  later  on,  are  beneficial  to  all.  This  possibility  of  in- 
vesting to  good  advantage  results  in  the  rich  using  only  a 
small  portion  of  their  wealth  in  display,  the  bulk  is  put  to 
better  use.  In  other  words,  the  increase  in  individual  wealth 
is  derived  from  and  promotes  the  prosperity  of  the  entire 
community. 

But  in  a  society  in  which  the  development  of  industry  was 
very  slow,  and  productive  investments  for  capital  few,  the 
enrichment  of  minorities  could  only  proceed  at  the  cost  of 
society.  As  the  sum-total  of  riches  remained  stationary  for 
long  periods  at  a  stretch,  the  enrichment  of  one  man  was  neces- 
sarily accompanied  by  the  loss  of  another.  Nor  was  this 
all  :  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  finding  investments  for  large 
capital,  the  accumulation  of  wealth  depressed  its  productive- 
/  ness,  and  consequently  the  enrichment  of  a  few  not  only 
impoverished  a  few,  but  the  whole  of  society,  by  diminishing 
production.  And  this  happened  in  various  ways, 


VI 

The  rich  men  of  antiquity  must  necessarily  have  wasted  a 
great  part  of  their  wealth,  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  finding 
good  investments  for  large  capital. 

Nowadays,  thanks  to  the  great  facilities  for  investing 
money  at  interest,  even  millionaires  own  a  relatively  small 
amount  of  bullion.4"  They  invest  all  their  fortune  in  lands, 
edifices,  industrial,  banking,  and  commercial  undertakings. 
But  in  an  age  in  which  fertile  land  was  limited  in  amount, 
commercial  and  industrial  investments  few,  and  when  the 
general  conditions  of  society  were  much  less  secure  than  they 


THE  DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT   CIVILIZATIONS      109 

are  at  present,  men  naturally  desired  to  hold  metal  more  than 
they  do  now.  Of  all  those  desirable  things  which  do  not 
satisfy  the  elementary  requirements  of  life,  gold  and  silver 
are  the  most  desirable  ;  because  they  do  not  wear  out,  because 
they  can  easily  be  hidden,  saved  from  fire,  kept  intact  under- 
ground  for  centuries  together,  or  transported  from  place  to 
place.  Also,  if  so  desired,  they  can  be  made  a  show  of.  In 
short,  they  easily  provoke  that  sentiment  which  we  have 
named  the  "  social  satisfaction  of  wealth."  True,  these  metals 
are  of  little  utility  when  locked  up  in  safes  or  converted  into 
plate,  true  that  besides  satisfying  the  sentiment  of  vanity 
they  are  only  useful  as  a  reserve  of  wealth  in  case  of  necessity. 
But  at  a  period  when  even  the  needs  of  the  wealthy  were 
few,  the  very  rich  were  able  to  invest  a  part  of  their  property 
in  precious  metals  without  depriving  themselves  of  any  of  the 
material  satisfactions  offered  of  their  age.  Hence  the  ancient 
world  was  travailed  by  a  perfect  thirst  for  gold  and  silver. 
Commerce  was  not  carried  on,  as  nowadays,  almost  entirely 
by  the  exchange  of  certain  goods  and  services  for  certain 
other  goods  and  services,  but  by  exchange  of  the  precious 
metals.  The  poorest  and  rudest  men  loved  to  decorate 
themselves  with  shining  metals  ;  barbarous  tribes  exchanged 
their  wares  for  gold  wherewith  to  mount  their  arms  or  make 
bracelets  and  trinkets.  The  Gauls  walked  the  world  semi- 
nude,  but  they  never  would  forego  the  gold  necklace,  which 
the  Greek  sculptors  of  the  Rhodian  school  never  failed  to 
reproduce  in  their  statues.  The  emblem  of  power  and 
position  in  their  chiefs  was  the  amount  of  golden  ornaments 
and  vessels  they  possessed.  While  the  barbarians  were  thus 
in  the  habit  of  accumulating  metal,  the  houses  of  the  rich 
in  more  civilized  societies  overflowed  with  splendours  difficult 
for  us  to  realize.  The  temples  were  frequently  depositories  of 


I  IO  MILITARISM 

gold  and  silver,  whether  in  money,  bullion,  or  objects.  The 
whole  of  Athens  in  the  time  of  Pericles  was  probably  not 
worth  one  parish  of  London  for  wealth,  and  yet  its  temples 
and  public  monuments  were  full  of  gold  and  silver-plated 
statues,  some  indeed  of  them  of  solid  metal,  for  the  like  of 
which  we  should  search  London  in  vain.  Oriental  monarchs, 
however,  were  the  chief  accumulators,  compelling  their  subjects 
and  vassals  to  pay  the  greatest  portion  of  their  tributes  in 
precious  metals,  which  they  horded  in  vast  quantities  in  their 
palaces. 

Had  they  not  withheld  from  circulation  a  great  part 
of  the  capital  necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  civilization, 
these  stores  would  have  been  useful  because  they  would  have 
implied  a  good  reserve  of  capital  in  case  of  need.  But  the 
greed  of  the  rich,  especially  in  an  era  when  social  experience 
was  limited,  did  not  apprehend,  and  therefore  could  not 
respect,  their  subtle  limit ;  so  that  at  times  the  states  of  the 
ancient  world  decayed  for  want  of  the  capital  accumulated 

in  idle  treasures  or  vain  pomp  in  the  houses  of  the  wealthy. 
\j" 

./•   i    Commerce  languishes  and  loses  its  agility  if  forced  to  return 
I  u  to  the  practice  of  barter,  the  value  of  goods  diminish,  as  also 

v.        K. 

the  wealth  of  those  who  depend  on  the  products  of  the  land 
and  industry.  Agriculturists,  small  proprietors  and  artisans 
are  impoverished  through  no  fault  of  their  own  ;  there  is  a 
falling-off  in  all  those  more  delicate  branches  of  work  which 
require  a  convenient  medium  of  exchange — only  usurers  and 
the  owners  of  precious  metals  thrive.  One  of  the  most  deep- 
seated  causes  of  the  internal  decay  of  the  Persian  Empire  at  the 
time  of  Alexander's  conquest  was  the  stagnation  of  precious 


metals  stored  at  the  court,  which  had  deprived  industry  of  a 


considerable  part  of  the  necessary  capital,  sown  misery  through- 
out the  nation,  and  disorganized  the  public  administration. 


THE   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZATIONS      III 

The .scarcit^otcirciilating -.capital  was  a  constant  drag.  This 
was  felt  more  acutely  in  moments  of  crisis,  as  for  example 
during  the  two  last  centuries  of  the  Roman  Republic.  The 
rich  Romans  accumulated  gold  extorted  from  all  parts  of 
the  empire.  This  they  converted  into  objects  of  luxury  and 
squandered  in  all  manner  of  ways,  till  the  wretched  peoples 
they  had  vanquished  found  themselves  without  the  where- 
withal to  pay  the  tributes  and  taxes  imposed  on  them,  and 
saw  the  value  of  their  harvests  and  produce  diminishing  in 
consequence.  One  of  the  chief  drawbacks  to  the  economical 
progress  of  the  ancient  world,  moreover,  was  the  scourge  of )/ 
usury,  the  rapid  increase  in  the  value  of  the  metals  that 
formed  their  medium  of  exchange,  which  originated  in  the 
scarcity  of  capital.  But  this  scarcity  was  not  due  to  any  } 
inadequacy  in  supply  to  meet  demand,  but  to  the  fact  that 
the  rich  horded  the  precious  metals  for  the  satisfaction  of  \ ' 
their  vanity  and  love  of  pomp. 


VII 

Precisely  the  same  thing  happened  with  the  lanji  The 
minorities  who  governed  ancient  states,  and  who  desired  to 
increase  their  wealth,  naturally  aimed  at  possessing  much 
land,  more  especially  as  agriculture  was  the  only  investment 
then  possible  to  large  capital.  Thus  we  constantly  observe 
in  the  ancient  world  that  the  system  of  small  properties  (the 
most  productive  regime  then  known)  was  always  of  short 
duration,  being  rapidly  ruined  by  a  greedy  set  of  land  mono- 
polists, who  cunningly  or  violently  concentrated  them  into  a 
few  large  holdings.  Sometimes  the  method  adopted  to  attain 
this  end  was  violent :  a  minority  acquired  political  power, 
and  arbitrarily  expropriated  the  small  agriculturists.  But 


I  I  2  MILITARISM 

usury  was  the  usual  instrument  An  easy-going  life  without 
much  hard  work  frequently  led  the  small  proprietor  into 
habits  of  extravagance.  They  took  to  dissipation,  games  of 
chance,  intrigues  with  the  courtesans  of  neighbouring  towns. 
Opportunities  for  getting  into  debt  were  not  lacking,  nor 
temptations  to  neglect  business.  A  man  could  consider  him- 
self lucky  when  he  had  only  spent  his  all,  so  long  as  he  did 
not  get  into  debt.  But  if  he  was  overtaken  by  a  war,  a 
famine,  a  flood  ?  He  then  found  himself  reduced  to  beggary, 
and  had  to  raise  loans,  at  a  heavy  interest,  since  capital  was 
not  abundant.  And  since  he  was  frequently  incapable  of 
augmenting  the  products  of  his  land  by  his  own  zeal,  and 
thus  of  repaying  the  loan,  one  debt  followed  on  another 
until  the  proprietor  found  himself  expropriated  by  his  debtor. 
Thus  the  usurers  became  the  big  proprietors. 

By  this  means  the  two  finest  systems  of  small  agricultural 
holdings  known  to  the  ancient  world  were  ruined.  Greece, 
in  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries  B.C.,  was  almost  entirely 
divided  into  small  properties  growing  principally  corn,  barley, 
and  olives.  The  population  was  at  its  densest  at  this  period, 
the  country  at  its  richest  epoch,  and  the  intellectual  and 
political  life  of  Athens  in  its  full  glory.  Aristotle  arrived  in 
time  to  find  Greece  in  this  condition,  which  he  with  reason 
considered  as  the  best  possible  ;  he  observed  that,  wealth 
being  well  divided,  there  were  few  people  absolutely  destitute. 
But  the  social  decadence  of  the  third  and  second  centuries 
was  accompanied  by  the  total  ruin  of  small  properties. 
Frequent  wars  had  devastated  Greece  :  these,  combined  with 
the  improvidence  of  the  landowners,  had  reduced  the  whole 
rustic  population  to  an  almost  inconceivable  state  of  debt  and 
misery.  Debtors  were  innumerable  in  Thessalonia,  Etolia, 
the  Peloponnesus  and  Attica  ;  a  few  usurers  who  had  known 


THE  DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT  CIVILIZA  TlONS      1 1 3 

how  to  accumulate  capital  were  expropriating  the  majority. 
The  population  was  rapidly  diminishing,  decimated  by  misery, 
whilst  vagabondage  daily  increased.  The  disputes  about 
debt  were  of  such  gravity  that  they  formed  the  basis  of  all  the 
political  struggles  of  the  century.  The  enemies  of  Rome, 
more  especially  Persius,  attempted  to  make  themselves 
popular  with  the  masses  in  Greece  by  raising  hopes  of  a 
general  abolition  of  debt. 

The  same  thing  occurred  in  Rome  after  the  destruction 
of  Carthage.  The  enrichment  of  Rome,  the  extravagant 
manner  of  life  adopted,  the  hopes  of  great  gains  to  be  made 
in  war,  the  passion  for  gambling  and  dissipation,  resulted  in 
the  agriculturist  abandoning'the  land  on  which  his  forefathers, 
during  the  intervals  of  peace,  had  long  led  a  rough  but 
laborious  life,  according  to  the  austere  ideal  of  Virgil.  With 
the  new  requirements  came  the  passion  for  distant  expedi- 
tions ;  the  relaxing  of  the  duties  entailed  by  marriage  and 
paternity,  debts,  and  with  debts  the  expropriation  of  the  small 
proprietors  by  usurers.  Moreover,  Rome  was  falling  into  the 
hands  of  powerful  factions  who  in  turn  dominated  the  state, 
whose  chiefs,  covetous  of  riches,  espoused  this  opportunity  of 
expropriating  others  and  enlarging  their  own  latifondir~ 

Still  large  properties  were  much  less  productive  in  the 
ancient  world  than  small  ones.  This  was  another  reason 
why  these  accumulations  were  noxious  to  the  development 
of  society.  A  large  capitalist  possessed  no  perfected 
machines  and  instruments  to  apply  to  his  land,  he  could  not 
augment  his  produce  in  comparison  with  a  small  proprietor, 
without  capital  or  machines,  like  a  rich  farmer  of  our  times. 
Indeed,  these  properties  were  less  productive,  because  their 
owners— with  the  indolence  and  indifference  of  the  age — 
entrusted  them  entirely  to  bailiffs  or  slaves,  who  profited  by 

H 


114  MILITARISM 

the  absence  of  their  master  to  work  as  little  and  rob  as  much 
as  possible.  The  only  object  of  landlords  was  to  draw  their 
rents — whether  large  or  small.  They  did  not  wish  to  be 
troubled  about  their  property,  living  far  distant  from  it  in 
large  cities,  there  to  idle  away  their  time,  occupied  in  politics 
or  literature,  or  indulging  in  libertinage.  Thus  we  understand 
how  it  was  that  all  the  great  writers,  from  Aristotle  to  Pliny, 
were  in  favour  of  small  holdings  ;  how  the  land,  robbed  from 
these  small  owners,  rapidly  degenerated;  how  the  country 
depopulated  and  decivilized,  making  of  it  a  convenient 
haunt  for  brigands — another  of  the  scourges  of  ancient 
civilizations. 


VIII 

The  mania  for  accumulation  had  another  result :  the 
/  diminution  of  the  third  factor  of  production — men.  With  the 
increasing  difficulty  in  exchange  and  diminution  of  work,  men 
found  it  more  and  more  difficult  to  live  up  to  the  standard  of 
life  to  which  they  were  accustomed,  and  hence  they  resorted 
to  the  first  economy  which  civilized  man  attempts  when 
( -  society  is  impoverishing :  abstention  from  children.  The 
a-iraiS'ia  due  to  infanticide  and  celibacy  was  a  scourge  of 
^ancient  civilization  in  times  of  crisis.  We  find  it  in  Greece 
in  the  third  and  second  centuries  B.C.,  in  Rome  after  the  fall 
of  Carthage — when  the  great  fecundity  of  Roman  families 
suddenly  ceased, — in  Gaul  in  the  time  of  Caesar,  when  in- 
fanticide was  a  common  practice.  But  this  diminution 
aggravated  matters  instead  of  improving  them,  because 
diminishing  the  number  of  producers  and  consumers  in  a 
society  which  nominally  did  not  possess  too  many,  ended  by 
the  force  necessary  for  production  and  restricting 


Til E   DEFECTS   OF  ANCIENT   CIVILIZA  TIONS      I  I  5 

still  further,  for  the  survivors,  the  possibility  to  live  and 
work. 

Owing  to  these  three  fundamental  vices,  ancient  society 
was  unable  to  maintain  an  equilibrium  between  the  three 
factors  of  production  :  capital,  land,  and  men.  Several 
societies  managed  for  a  brief  period  to  maintain  a  sufficient 
poise  ;  and  this  was  their  brief  moment  of  greatest  glory  and 
power.  But  this  equilibrium  rapidly  broke  down  :  capital 
stagnated,  land  accumulated  in  the  hands  of  a  few  and  became 
less  fertile,  population  diminished.  The  impossibility  of 
augmenting  productive  investments,  owing  to  the  poorness 
of  their  technique,  to  scientific  ignorance,  to  the  universal 
prevalence  of  indolent  habits  and  content  with  poor  and 
simple  life,  caused  those  efforts  made  by  energetic  minorities 
to  increase  their  wealth  invariably  to  terminate  in  the  ruin 
and  progressive  decomposition  and  disorganization  of  society. 

We  shall  see,  in  the  following  study,  that  the.  chief  reason 
for  wars  in  ancient  times  is  to  be  found  in  this  law  of  rapid 
and  periodical  decomposition,  to  which  all  old  civilizations 
were  subject  owing  to  their  very  constitution. 


MILITARISM    IN    THE    ANCIENT 
WORLD 


I"? 


CHAPTER  IV 

MILITARISM  IN   THE  ANCIENT  WORLD 

I 

FOR  various  reasons  war  \vasjie_ccssary  to  the  development 
and  progress  of  ancient  civilization,  and  this  must  account  for 
the  numerous  and  terrible  conflicts  of  antiquity. 

Civilization  does  not  develop  beyond  certain  bounds  unless 
it  possesses  a  fair  quantity  of  circulating  capital  in  the  form  ^/ 
of  metallic  coin.  Precious  metals  when  coined,  or  used  as 
coin,  have  the  virtue  of  facilitating  the  most  complicated 
exchange,  regardless  of  distance  or  time ;  of  increasing  the 
efficacy  of  human  work,  and  of  endowing  it  almost  without 
men's  knowledge  with  a  broader  object  than  the  immediate 
benefit  of  individuals.  So,  if  it  is  going  too  far  to  say  that 
civilization  could  not  develop  without  the  use  of  precious 
metals  as  money,  it  is  anyway  certain  that,  after  fire  and  the 
alphabet,  it  has  been  man's  best  friend  since  the  beginning 
of  his  history. 

In  the  ancient  world  the  essential  function  of  war  was  to  \ 
provide  civilizations,  which  were  on  their  road  to  progress, 
with  sufficient  capital. 

We  have  seen  that  these  precious  metals,  owing  to  a  vice 
innate  in  ancient  civilizations,  were  periodically  withdrawn 
from  circulation  to  stagnate  in  the  houses  of  the  wealthy, 
where  they  served  no  other  purpose  than  that  of  vain  display. 


120  MILITARISM 

Wars  served  to  force  this  capital  into  circulation  and  to  send 

\' 

it  where  it  could  be  of  _  some  profit.  Nowadays,  when 
capital  is  only  accumulated  in  order  to  find  a  profitable 
investment  for  it  in  some  portion  of  the  civilized  world  pro- 
tected by  laws,  customs,  and  international  ideas,  a  nation 
desirous  of  raising  its  standard  of  civilization  can  easily 
procure  the  necessary  money  by  borrowing  it  from  richer 
nations,  so  that  financial  difficulties  are  among  its  least 
important  drawbacks.  They  were,  on  the  contrary,  the 
gravest  difficulties  in  the  ancient  world,  where  a  people  could 
not  procure  this  capital  without  plundering,  in  a  fortunate 
bellicose  undertaking,  the  riches  hoarded  by  other  nations  in 
their  temples,  wealthy  houses,  and  palaces, 

II 

Thus  the  wars  between  civilized  states  and  nomadic,  or 
semi-nomadic  tribes,  were  in  the  ancient  world  essentially 
^  struggles  for  the  conquest  of  capital  and  for  its  better  employ- 
ment. These  were  among  the  most  terrible  wars  of  ancient 
history.  Civilized  states  were  like  oases  in  the  desert  of  bar- 
barism. How  many  attacks  from  the  Gauls  Rome  and  Greece 
had  to  resist !  Carthage  had  fallen,  and  yet  Rome — mistress 
of  a  vast  empire — again  saw  Italy  threatened  by  the  Cimbric 
and  Teutonic  hordes,  from  which  it  could  only  free  itself  by 
a  ruthless  extermination.  But  Oriental  states  were  more 
subject  than  others  to  such  wars.  Assyria  was  constantly  at 
war  with  the  Cimmerii  and  Scythians  in  the  north,  with  the 
Medes  and  Persians  in  the  east,  with  the  Arab  tribes  in  the 
region  of  the  lower  Euphrates  and  Southern  Syria.  The 
Egyptian  state  was  constantly  threatened  by  the  Asian  and 
Nubian  nomad  races.  The  fragments  of  Oriental  history 
which  have  come  down  to  us  strike  us  as  the  history  of  an 


MILITARISM  IN  THE   ANCIENT   WORLD          I  2  I 

interminable  chase  that  was  far  more  terrible  than  the  lion 
and  tiger-hunts  partaken  of  by  the  Assyrian  kings,  so 
splendidly  represented  on  the  bas-reliefs  in  the  British 
Museum.  When  empires  were  young  and  strong,  they 
endeavoured  to  forestall  the  danger  by  bearding  the  ferocious 
tribes — these  human  tigers — in  their  dens,  in  the  wilds  of  the 
Steppes,  and  in  their  mountain  gorges.  The  Asiatic 
Empires  exterminated  large  numbers  with  their  arrows, 
while  the  remaining  clans  lurked  in  inaccessible  retreats. 
But  empires  grew  weary  of  chasing  these  innumerable  and 
indomitable  beasts  ;  the  hunter  aged,  and  at  the  return  of 
the  hunting  season  began  to  lose  his  interest  in  penetrating 
into  the  heart  of  the  forest  in  order  to  decimate  these  human 
animals.  Then  they  multiplied  in  their  lairs,  took  fresh 
courage,  and  finally  turned  out  in  vast  hordes,  invaded  the 
land  and  attacked  the  hunter's  flocks.  Hearing  their  cries, 
the  hunter  would  arouse,  and  in  an  impulse  of  fury,  he  once 
more  found  his  original  vigour,  left  his  tent  and  seized  his 
bow  and  arrow.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  tigers  had 
become  too  fierce  and  numerous,  the  hunter's  arm  too  weak 
— he  fell,  and  was  torn  to  pieces  by  the  beasts. 

The  periodic  attacks  of  these  tribes  were  probably  caused 
by  the  same  motive — excluding  religious  fanaticism — which 
led  to  the  formation  of  the  Dervish  horde  in  the  Soudan, 
amongst  which  the  strongest  was  the  greed  for  precious 
metals.  Gold  and  silver  were  more  desirable  for  their  own 
sake  than  as  a  means  of  exchange  to  the  ancient  barbaric 
tribes,  whose  requirements  were  small  even  in  comparison 
with  the  modest  ones  of  ancient  civilized  peoples.  But  the 
barbarians'  desire  for  the  possession  of  these  metals  greatly 
exceeded  their  capacity  to  procure  them  by  trading,  because 
they  were  lazy  and  ignorant,  producing,  and  consequently 


122  MILITARISM- 

selling,  little.  Moreover,  a  thoughtless,  adventurous  and 
uncontrolled  warlike  existence  was  attractive  to  their  primi- 
tive and  violent  minds.  Tacitus  has  described  the  Germans 
as  passing  from  periods  of  abject  indolence  to  attacks  of 
savage  excitement.  Thus  from  time  to  time  the  combina- 
tion of  various  nomad  tribes  formed  great  hordes  which 
attacked  the  wealthy  cities  of  civilized  states,  appropriating 
furniture,  carpets,  cloths,  and  above  all  precious  metals. 
Some  of  the  gold  and  silver  was  divided  amongst  the 
soldiers,  but  the  greater  part  was  appropriated  by  the 
strongest  and  most  cunning  warriors,  who  thus  became 
the  tyrants  of  the  swarm. 

Civilized  states  were  led,  in  their  turn,  to  counter-attack 
these  barbarous  tribes,  partly  in  order  to  forestall  future 
assaults,  partly  to  become  masters  of  their  wealth.  Even  the 
poorer  clans  possessed  relatively  large  quantities  of  wealth 
lying  idle.  On  the  battlefield  where  the  barbarian  warriors 
had  fallen,  and  in  the  villages  razed,  the  conquerors  were 
able  to  collect  large  booty  of  precious  metals.  Thus  the  wars 
of  barbarians  against  civilized  states  aimed  at  accumulating 
capital  for  ostentatious  display,  and  those  of  civilized  nations 
against  barbarians,  to  replace  this  gold  and  silver  in  circulation 
for  a  higher  object.  Much  of  the  progress  of  Roman  civiliza- 
tion was  rendered  possible  by  spoils  thus  taken  ;  the  first  great 
aqueduct,  for  instance,  which  after  a  more  modest  attempt 
initiated  the  great  Roman  hydraulic  constructions,  was  built 
in  272  B.C.  with  the  booty  taken  in  the  Pyrrhic  wars,  while 
the  first  public  library  was  founded  in  Rome  by  Asinius 
Pollio  with  the  spoils  taken  in  40  B.C.  from  the  Dalmatian 
tribes  who  lived  by  piracy. 

The  same  thing,  on  a  smaller  scale,  happened  in  Athens. 
By  wrenching  it  forcibly  from  less  civilized  peoples,  who 


MILITARISM  IN  THE  ANCIENT   WORLD         123 

would  have  used  it  merely  for  show,  the  Athenians  procured 
the  capital  necessary  for  creating  the  splendid  Periclean 
civilization,  for  constructing  the  Parthenon,  and  for  re- 
munerating Phidias.  Athens  was  able,  moreover,  to  construct 
the  Salaminian  fleet  with  the  silver  of  the  Laurian  mines ; 
and  by  means  of  these  vessels,  and  the  glory  of  their  Persian 
triumphs,  they  forced  the  Ionian  cities  to  conclude  the  Delic 
confederation,  and  to  pay  them  a  tribute  sufficient  to  main- 
tain a  great  army  capable  of  defending  the  coast  against  Persia. 
This  tribute,  later  on,  served  not  only  in  part  to  construct  the 
navy,  it  also  helped  in  a  great  measure  to  beautify  Athens, 
to  maintain  artisans,  painters,  and  sculptors,  to  increase  the 
pay  of  the  Athenian  workers  in  State  service.  The  tribute 
was  at  first  fixed  at  460  talents  ;  but  this  was  by  degrees 
increased,  until,  in  the  time  of  Pericles,  it  formed  more  than 
half  of  the  Athenian  revenue,  so  that  in  the  end  it  was  no 
longer  so  much  a  voluntary  contribution  to  a  military  ally  as 
an  obligatory  tribute  to  a  work  of  civilization,  whose  remains 
we  still  venerate  as  almost  divine.  The  sailors  of  the  Athenian 
fleet,  who  obliged  the  Ionian  cities,  weary  of  the  league,  to 
continue  paying  their  tax,  were  unconscious  collaborators 
in  the  architecture  of  the  Parthenon,  in  the  works  of  Sophocles, 
Aristophanes,  and  Socrates,  because  they  contributed  to  main- 
tain artists  and  writers  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 
that  happy  class  of  citizens  who,  without  being  rich,  were 
intelligent,  and  had  a  passion  for  beauty  and  discussion  : 
men  whose  chief  office  was  to  form  an  appreciative  and 
encouraging  public  to  that  extraordinary  generation  of 
artists  and  thinkers  who  existed  in  a  unique  moment  in 
the  intellectual  history  of  the  world.  Strength,  beauty,  and 
wisdom  had  united  to  found  together  the  reign  of  intellect 
in  a  small  Grecian  town. 


124  MILITARISM 


III 

We  have  seen  that  the  equilibrium  between  the  three 
factors  of  production — land,  men,  and  capital— was  of  short 
duration  in  ancient  civilization,  owing  to  the  difficulty  of, 
finding  productive  investments  for  capital,  and  that  wealth 
had  a  tendency  to  stagnate  uselessly  when  the  moment  of 
highest  prosperity  in  a  civilization  was  over.  War,  by  re- 
placing capital  in  circulation,  imparted  new  life  to  decadent 
societies. 

The  social  work  of  Alexander  the  Great  was  to  conquer 
by  arms  the  immense  treasures  lying  dormant  in  the  Persian  I 
and  Egyptian  courts.  With  this  money,  which  was  thus 
made  to  move,  he  founded  cities,  opened  roads,  organized 
states  and  stimulated  the  energy,  the  inventive  genius,  and 
the  greed  of  innumerable  Greeks.  In  short,  he  provided 
Greece  with  the  funds  necessary  to  conquer  Asia,  to  organize 
fresh  fields  for  commerce,  to  found  new  centres  of  study, 
and  to  prepay  the  Orient  for  the  coming  of  Christ. 

The  chief  results  of  the  Roman  conquests  were  not  only 
to  replace  in  circulation  the  wealth  accumulated,  by  the 
semi-barbaric  Alpine,  Gallic,  Spanish,  and  Illyrian  peoples, 
but  also  that  of  the  civilized  Asian  states,  which,  since  the 
days  of  Alexander,  had  had  time  to  re-accumulate  and  stag- 
nate, using  them  for  the  advance  of  a  new  type  of  civilization. 
From  the  conquest  of  Carthage  up  to  the  time  of  Julius 
Caesar,  Roman  politics  were  directed  by  a  crew  of  financiers 
whose  sole  object  was  to  appropriate,  by  fair  means  or  foul, 
the  wealth  lying  dormant  in  the  provinces.  These  were  the  \ 
publicans,  who  belonged  to  the  order  of  knights,  and  formed 
a  high  financial  bourgeoisie,  a  class  of  rich  bankers,  who 


MILITARISM  IN   THE   ANCIENT   WORLD         125 

organized  commercial  societies  similar  to  those  of  our  time, 
in  which  any  one  in  Rome  who  possessed  a  little  money — 
a  soldier  on  his  return  from  some  campaign,  or  a  rich  senator 
—could  buy  paries  or  shares.  The  societies  had  a  director 
called  a  magister,  a  sort  of  administrative  council,  offices, 
and  employees  ;  they  supervised  the  collection  of  taxes  in 
the  provinces,  the  working  of  State  mines,  military  transports, 
and  the  construction  of  public  works.  Their  paries  were  sold 
at  prices  varying  from  day  to  day.  Well-provided  with  money, 
counting  among  their  shareholders  the  most  powerful  persons 
in  the  empire,  these  societies  were  practically  masters  of  the 
State,  and  could  be  as  overbearing  and  violent  as  they  chose 
in  the  provinces,  in  order  to  extort  money  from  their  victims 
to  carry  to  Rome  and  divide  among  the  shareholders.  At 
critical  moments,  moreover,  they  did  not  lack  the  support 
of  high-placed  politicians  and  celebrated  orators  to  defend 
their  interests  with  the  State,  just  as  is  the  case  in  our  own 
days  where  big  financial  schemes  are  concerned.  Cicero's 
speech,/;^  Lege  Manilla,  is  a  warm  defence  of  the  shareholders 
of  the  Asian  publicans  when  threatened  with  ruin  by  the 
war  of  Mithridates,  who  had  invaded  the  tract  in  which  the 
society  extorted  tribute.  The  great  orator  exhorts  the  people 
to  provide  quickly  for  war  expenses,  describing  the  anxiety 
of  the  shareholders,  who  feared  losing  capital  and  interest. 

Even  Augustus,  who  commenced  the  work  of  consolidating 
the  empire,  used  Cleopatra's  treasures  as  a  capital  for  the 
foundation  of  his  imperial  civilization.  This  was,  perhaps, 
the  last  great  reserve  of  wealth  remaining  in  the  Orient  / 
after  the  Roman  depredations,  which  accounts  for  the  zeal 
the  latter  displayed  in  subjugating  Egypt  after  the  battle  of 
Azio.  Augustus  did  not  merely  desire  to  conquer  the  future 
granary  of  Rome  ;  long  wars  had  exhausted  his  treasure, 


125  MILITARISM 

and  Rome  at  that  moment  suffered  from  a  scarcity  of  cir- 
culating wealth.  The  accumulating  greed  of  the  Ptolemies, 
their  uncontrolled  passion  for  luxury,  had  unconsciously  pre- 
pared the  remedy.  Augustus  obtained  Alexandria  and  the 
royal  treasures  of  Egypt.  He  carried  them  to  Rome ;  he 
coined  a  great  part  of  the  metal ;  he  employed  this  money  to 
found  new  colonies  with  his  veterans,  to  re-organize  the  army, 
to  make  roads  and  bridges,  to  provide,  in  short,  the  most 
urgent  requirements  for  the  restoration  of  that  civilization 
which  was  his  work. 


IV 

Another  motive  for  war  in  the  ancient  world  was  the 
accumulation  of  land,  which  reason  we  have  already  traced. 
This  amassing  frequently  conjoined  with  the  stagnation  of 
capital  by  decreasing  agricultural  production,  reduced  a 
portion  of  the  rural  population  to  forced  idleness,  and  in- 
directly impoverished  the  town  labourers.  Thus  the  ancient 
world,  like  the  modern  one,  was  tormented  by  the  evil  of 
the  unemployed,  with  the  difference,  however,  that  men  then 
refused  to  use  certain  hard  but  salutary  remedies  which  we 
have  proved  to  be  efficacious ;  and  the  remedy  was  sought, 
instead,  in  war. 

It  was  a  difficult  matter,  then,  for  the  expropriated  small 
proprietor,  or  the  unemployed,  to  make  a  living  by  other 
work,  because  antiquity  was  poor  and  did  not  know  how  to 
augment  and  vary  men's  labour  and  consumption.  To  this 
cause  we  must  add  the  unlaborious  habits  of  the  age.  The 
people's  requirements  were  few  :  a  handful  of  olives  for  dinner, 
a  little  material  for  clothing  purposes,  a  ray  of  sunshine  for 
warmth,  any  sort  of  shelter  for  the  night,  a  friend  to  chat  with, 


MILITARISM  !N  THE  ANCIENT   WORLD         HJ  ' 

some  gratis  entertainment,  and  the  Athenian  or  Roman  ple- 
beian was  content.     These  elementary  needs  could  easily  be 
satisfied  by  beggary  or  theft  when  work  was  short.     It  was  an 
age  of  improvidence  and  lightness  of  heart,  because  there  was 
not  present  that  gaoler  who  now  watches  day  and  night  over 
society,   over   offices,   fields,   and  workshops,  rendering  the 
multitudes  docile   to   the   hard   discipline  of  modern  work 
— i.e.  hunger.     The  ancients  were  in   danger  of  periodical 
attacks  of  universal  famine  ;  but  in  periods  of  abundance  no 
one — not  even  professional  vagabonds — needed  to  go  without 
a  piece  of  bread  and  a  handful  of  olives  or  figs.     It  never 
happened,  as  it  does  now,  that  in  the  midst  of  great  and 
continuous  abundance  an   improvident  or  unenergetic  man 
risks  dying  of  starvation.     This  fact  explains  the  co-existence 
of  lazy  multitudes   and   slaves.     Slave   labour,   as   Cairnes 
demonstrates,  costs  more  and  produces  less  than  free  labour. 
How  was  it,  then,  that  in  such  poor  times,  when   lack  of 
work  was  so  prevalent,  free  men  were  not  employed  for  the 
work   generally   performed    by   slaves  ?     Because   for   very 
tiring  work,  such  as   mining,   transporting   heavy  weights, 
turning  grinding-mills,  ploughing  uncultured  land,  for  work 
which  interfered  seriously  with  personal  liberty,  such  as  serving 
in  rich  houses,  free  men  could  not  easily  be  found,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  coerce  by  force.     Free  men  preferred  mendicity 
to  such  hard  work,  or  parasitism  on  the  rich,  a  feature  highly 
developed  in  the  ancient  world ;  or,  when  occasion  offered,  they 
chose  rather  to  impose  themselves  forcibly  on  others.     Hence 
the  reason  why  ancient  colonizations  so  frequently  assumed 
the   character   of  military   conquests.     Emigrants    did    not 
contemplate    inhabiting    new  countries   and   ploughing   the 
land  ;   they  only  submitted   themselves   to   such  hard   and 
ungrateful  work  when   absolutely  forced   by  circumstances. 


128  MILITARISM 

They  rather  sought  to  conquer  land  already  cultivated,  and 
to  disperse  its  original  possessors.  Some  have  tried  to  ex- 
plain ancient  colonization  by  increase  of  population  ;  but  this 
is  only  possible  by  supposing  a  greater  analogy  than  really 
existed  between  ancient  and  modern  civilization.  Population 
could  not  increase  rapidly  in  those  days,  especially  in  nations 
of  a  certain  civilization  who  countenanced  infanticide,  since, 
besides  this  artificial  means  of  destruction,  there  existed 
others  not  less  efficacious :  wars,  epidemics,  famines,  and  the 
absence  of  hygiene — so  fatal,  more  especially  to  children. 
But  even  without  supposing  a  rapid  increase  of  population, 
it  is  easy  to  explain  the  prevailing  desire  to  conquer  new 
countries.  The  instability  of  small  properties  must  have 
been  one  of  the  primary  factors.  Even  in  moments  of  great 
prosperity  (for  reasons  we  have  already  explained)  a  certain 
number  of  small  proprietors  got  into  debt  and  were  expro- 
priated. When  they  were  overtaken  by  a  crisis,  debts  and 
expropriation  combined  ended  in  the  complete  ruin  of  the 
small  rural  class,  to  whom  all  hope  was  thus  lost  of  living 
by  work  in  their  native  land.  The  acquisition  of  other 
cultivated  lands  on  which  to  settle,  or  some  way  of  existing 
by  means  of  war,  was  their  only  resource. 

Thus  we  see  Athens,  even  in  the  height  of  her  glory  under 
Pericles,  sprinkling  with  cleruchies,  or  colonies,  many  islands 
of  the  archipelago,  the  shores  of  the  Chersonese,  the  Black 
Sea,  and  even  the  coast  of  Italy :  colonies  whose  object  was 
to  occupy  land  already  cultivated  by  getting  rid  of  its  original 
owners.  Many  of  these  emigrants  were  Greeks  from  various 
regions,  but  Athenians  were  not  numerous  in  these  colonies 
because,  at  that  period,  the  prosperity  of  the  small  Attic  pro- 
prietors and  Athenian  artisans  was  at  its  highest,  and  work  was 
abundant  for  all.  But  in  the  years  of  Athenian  and  Greek 


MILITARISM  IN   THE  ANCIENT   WORLD         1 29 

decadence — the  third  and  second  centuries  B.C. — when  the 
great  ruin  of  small  holdings  occurred,  innumerable  Greeks 
emigrated  as  artisans,  merchants,  soldiers,  counsellors,  writers, 
artists,  tutors  and  priests  into  the  Asian  states  founded  by 
Alexander  the  Great. 

Greece  became  depopulated  and  impoverished,  its  culture^ 
declined,  the  land  became  massed  into  a  few  immense  proper- 
ties, capital  lay  idle.  Side  by  side  of  a  few  insolent  and 
extravagant  rich  men,  there  lived  a  nation  of  debtors  and 
mendicants  who  dragged  out  a  wretched  and  angry  existence. 
Fortunately,  a  military  genius  had  thrown  open  to  the  Greeks 
the  fabulous  expanses  of  Asia.  He  had  made  accessible 
immense  territories,  occupied  by  gigantic  states,  abounding 
in  wealth,  blessed  with  a  grandiose  but  formless  and  stationary 
civilization  which  had  for  long  alarmed  and  disquieted  the 
Greeks,  habituated  to  their  small  poor  country,  their  tiny  states, 
and  to  the  exquisitely  harmonious  proportions  of  their  civili- 
zation. Had  it  not  been  for  the  Greek  social  crisis  of  the 
third  and  second  centuries  H.C.,  the  conquests  of  Alexander  the 
Great  would  have  lost  much  of  their  importance.  Thanks  to 
this,  the  Greeks  emigrated  to  Asia  by  the  road  the  Macedonian 
arms  had  opened  to  them  ;  and  here  their  genius  lost  much  of 
its  equilibrium  and  serenity,  replacing  its  loss  by  the  gain  of 
an  ardent  energy. 

Expropriated  proprietors  also  played  a  great  role  in  Roman 
history.  Rome's  more  ancient  wars  against  the  populations 
of  central  Italy  aimed  at  seizing  their  enemies'  cultivated 
lands.  In  the  same  manner  the  main  object  of  the  conflicts 
waged  during  the  two  last  centuries  of  the  Roman  Republic 
was  to  provide  for  the  ruined  class  of  small  landowners. 
After  the  conquest  of  Carthage,  small  Italian  farms  went 
down  under  the  pressure  of  hard  times,  the  expropriated 

I 


130  MILITARISM 

owners  moved  to  Rome,  became  soldiers,  lived  by  elections, 
or  passed  into  the  provinces  to  fight  or  become  usurers  lending 
at  high  rates  of  interest  the  moneys  acquired  from  their  share 
of  the  booty.  Now  this  class  of  professional  speculators  on  war 
required  a  constant  supply  of  such  conflicts,  more  especially  as 
they  rapidly  squandered  in  times  of  peace  the  money  then 
gained.  Hence  the  small  expropriated  landowners  formed  in 
the  Roman  assemblies  a  public  opinion  always  favourable  to 
war.  When  towards  the  middle  of  the  first  century  B.C., 
through  the  multiplication  of  foreign  and  civil  wars,  the  world 
was  much  impoverished,  and  that  definitive  crisis  which  was 
the  beginning  of  the  empire,  was  imminent,  the  land  question 
became  a  stimulus  to  war  in  yet  another  fashion.  The  poor 
Roman  plebeians  flocked  round  the  standards  of  the  heads  of 
factions,  not  through  enthusiasm  for  the  contending  ideas,  but 
because  they  hoped  to  receive  cultivated  lands  in  return  for 
their  services,  lands  on  which  they  could  live,  helped  by  some 
slave,  without  the  fatigue  of  labour.  The  lands  which  the 
veterans  hankered  after  were  already  prepared  to  give  fruit 
and  harvests,  so  that  the  heads  of  parties,  more  especially 
after  the  death  of  Caesar,  were  compelled  to  proceed  to  those 
expropriations  of  small  Italian  proprietors,  which  threatened 
the  total  ruin  of  Roman  society.  When  Augustus  came  into 
power,  in  order  to  restore  peace  he  bought,  instead  of  robbing, 
the  lands  to  distribute  to  the  veterans,  who,  establishing 
themselves  in  the  various  cities,  were  thus  enabled  to  satisfy 
the  principal  desire  for  which  they  had  taken  up  arms,  i.e.  to 
live  without  working,  like  a  modern  rentier  on  the  income  of 
the  lands  received. 

The  last  motive  for  war  in  the  ancient  world  is  to  be  found 
in  slavery.  We  have  already  seen  why  slavery  was  necessary  ; 
but  irthe  slaves  were  procured  in  small  numbers  by  legal 


MILITARISM  IN  THE  ANCIENT   WORLD         13! 

artifices,  such  as  the  sale  of  children  and  the  loss  of  liberty 
to  insolvent  debtors,  they  were  obtained  in  much  larger 
numbers  by  violence.  Man-hunting  was  a  regular  trade. 
No  sooner  did  the  State  relax  a  little  of  its  vigilance  on  the 
coast,  than  remote  creeks  became  the  haunts  of  pirate  ships, 
forests  and  mountains  the  resort  of  brigands ;  the  first 
attacked  navigators,  the  second  travellers,  whom  they  then 
sent,  by  means  of  merchants,  to  distant  markets,  more 
especially  to  Delos,  which  for  many  centuries  was  the  great 
slave-market  of  the  Graeco-Roman  world.  How  numerous 
were  those  whom  this  fate  overtook  in  the  ancient  world  ! 
Many  great  men — Ccesar  not  excepted — ran  this  risk.  But 
countries  in  a  state  of  war  were  able  to  carry  on  this 
commerce  on  a  larger  scale.  The  prisoners  who  to-day  are 
an  expense  and  nuisance  to  the  victors,  then  formed  part — and 
no  mean  one  either — -of  the  booty.  They  were  sold  as  use- 
ful merchandise  for  industrial  purposes,  and  to  serve  the  rich 
in  diverse  countries  ;  and  the  results  of  the  sale  largely  repaid 
the  conquerors  for  the  expenses  of  war. 


War  was  consequently  a  necessary  factor  in  the  progress 
and  spread  of  ancient  civilization  ;  it  was  able  to  provide 
nations,  who  desired  to  develop  with  the  requisite  capital, 
land  and  men  by  seizing  them  from  barbarians  or  from 
civilized  states  in  decadence.  Hence  war  was  a  struggle 
for  civilization,  because  without  it  nations  could  not  emerge 
from  barbarism,  or  raise  themselves  from  periodical  decline, 
owing  to  their  ignorance  and  lack  of  industry.  This  explains 
how  it  came  about  that  great  warriors  were  regarded 
with  an  admiration  that  almost  amounted  to  worship, 


MILITARISM 

and  why  Alexander  was  considered  of  superhuman  greatness. 
The  warrior  was  not  merely  a  soldier,  he  was  also  the 
capitalist  of  the  ancient  world,  the  administrator  of  past  and 
future  wealth,  the  great  architect ;  the  protector  of  religion,  of 
art,  of  literature,  of  knowledge  ;  the  arbitrator  of  the  future  in 
the  decisive  moments  of  history.  The  means  massed  in  his 
hands  were  immense,  his  power  unlimited,  his  practical 
responsibility  nil,  his  historical  responsibility  was  enormous. 
He  had  to  understand,  or  at  least  to  divine,  the  necessities 
of  the  future,  because  for  centuries  to  come  men  would 
inhabit,  pray,  and  study  in  the  places  and  manner  indicated 
by  him,  would  travel  along  the  paths  he  traced.  A  single 
error  on  his  part  might  become  a  calamitous  matter  for  ages. 

And  yet  war,  even  in  the  ancient  world,  though  so  necessary 
to  civilization,  contained  such  an  active  element  of  destruction, 
that  its  services  were  always  accompanied  by  grave  perils. 
In  this  respect  it  was  similar  to  fire,  which  is  man's  best  and 
most  useful  servitor,  but  woe  betide  him  if  its  destructive 
forces  once  break  loose  !  Now,  the  destructive  qualities  of 
war  in  the  ancient  world  were  much  more  difficult  to  control 
than  those  of  fire.  Man  is  stimulated  to  every  action  by 
some  need  or  reason,  but  in  the  performance  of  this,  certain 
sentiments  and  passions  arise  which  may,  in  their  turn,  have 
great  influence  on  his  life.  Though  war  originated  in  the 
causes  given,  it  generated  pride,  overbearingness,  ferocity, 
and  all  the  desires  of  destruction  in  the  people.  These 
passions,  and  above  all  pride,  became  a  fresh  and  terrible 
incentive  to  war ;  while  greed,  on  the  other  hand,  its  first 
stimulus,  developed  a  larger  appetite  after  every  nourish- 
ment, and  grew  in  ancient  oligarchies  as  their  fortune  in  war 
increased. 

For  this  reason  it  was  impossible  to  ancient  states  to  keep 


MILITARISM  IN  THE  ANCIENT   WORLD         133 

war  within  those  bounds  which  alone  would  have  enabled  it 
to  be  useful  to  civilization.  And  even  when  reduced  to  its 
purely  beneficial  essences,  it  was  an  expensive  matter,  because 
the  capital  and  land,  seized  by  force,  cost  the  ancients  much 
more  than  it  costs  us  to  borrow  money,  buy  land,  and 
remunerate  men  for  their  services.  War  cost  then  as  it  does 
now  :  it  cost  directly  for  the  arms  and  apparatus  required,  and 
for  the  men  and  property  it  destroyed.  It  cost  indirectly, 
through  the  immense  waste  it  caused,  the  destruction  of 
harvests  and  the  devastation  of  fields,  the  burning  of  villages 
and  cities,  the  dispersion  and  loss  of  funds. 

It  is  therefore  easy  to  understand  how  ruinous  war  became 
when  some  ruling  oligarchy  allowed  itself,  blinded  by  the 
pride  of  victory  and  greed,  to  multiply  wars,  provoking 
enemies  on  all  hands,  consuming  all  their  reserves,  so  that 
their  first  defeat  fatally  entailed  ruin. 

Such  is  the  history  of  nearly  all  ancient  states,  which  were 
incited  by  a  first  military  victory  to  be  more  and  more  master- 
ful with  others,  to  increase  their  plunder,  augment  their  armies, 
until  ruin  almost  unexpectedly  overtook  them.  For  instance, 
the  empire  of  those  Assyrian  kings  of  whom  one  was  able 
to  write :  "  I  passed  like  a  devastating  hurricane.  I  trans- 
ported to  my  country  Su-Zub,  king  of  Bab-Ilu,  him  and 
his  family.  I  destroyed  his  city  and  his  palace,  from  its 
summit  down  to  its  foundation  I  delivered  it  to  the  flames  ; 
I  devastated  the  ramparts,  the  altars,  the  temples,  all  the 
works  in  brick  in  his  empire  I  ruined  at  a  blow."  As  an 
immense  tower  which  reaches  nearly  up  to  heaven  is  suddenly 
flung  down  by  an  earthquake  and  reduced  to  a  mountain 
of  ruins,  so  Athens,  after  she  had  killed  the  Persian  giant 
with  her  short  sword  and  her  light  armour,  grew  covetous 
and  overbearing  when  seated  on  the  throne  of  Greece  and 


134  MILITARISM 

mistress  of  the  sea.  By  her  pride  and  cupidity  she  provoked 
a  conflict  with  Sparta,  in  which  she  obstinately  persevered, 
always  attempting  new  military  undertakings,  till  after  the 
Sicilian  campaign  she  found  herself  ruined  and  undone. 
Alexander  uprose  shortly  after,  and  led  Greece  to  the  con- 
quest of  Asia ;  but  at  the  height  of  his  might  he  lost  his  reason 
and  heaped  madness  on  violence.  After  his  death  the  empire 
was  divided  into  large  kingdoms,  whose  heads  for  two  centuries 
waged  terrible  wars  in  the  hope  of  gain.  Another  nation  mean- 
while was  rising  in  the  west :  Rome,  a  strong,  bellicose,  and 
austere  people,  who  for  centuries  waged  long  and  wearisome 
wars  with  the  other  inhabitants  of  Italy,  and  engaged  in  a 
protracted  and  terrible  duel  with  a  city  of  proud  and  greedy 
capitalists,  Carthage.  But  having  conquered  Carthage,  the 
vices  of  her  enemies  seemed  to  enter  into  the  soul  of  Rome. 
All  the  treasures  of  the  Orient  no  longer  satisfied  her  greed, 
the  world  seemed  scarcely  big  enough  to  contain  her  un- 
measured ambition  and  her  appetite  for  plunder.  Then 
Rome  herself  fell,  ruined  in  her  turn  by  war,  and  became 
involved  in  the  most  alarming  anarchical  disorder.  Woe  to 
her,  if  in  the  last  century  before  the  Christian  era,  a  strong 
military  nation  had  survived  ! 

In  this  wise,  ancient  history  was  one  great  chain  and 
succession  of  wars,  a  panorama  of  contending  nations.  An 
equal  degree  of  civilization,  the  similarity  of  religion,  race 
relationship,  did  net  suffice  to  maintain  peace. 

War  was  necessary  to  civilization,  and  it  ended  by  destroy- 
ing civilization.  To  this  contradiction  is  due  all  the 
tragic  grandeur  of  the  ancient  world.  It  scattered  every- 
where haphazard  the  germs  of  life  and  death  in  almost 
equal  proportions,  so  that  the  two  combined  were  at  the  root 
of  many  things,  and  much  which  appeared  strong  and  full  of 


MILITARISM  IN  7 HE  ANCIENT   WORLD         135 

life  was  destined  to  be  of  short  duration.  War  introduced 
that  element  of  fragility  to  the  older  society  which  renders 
its  remains  so  pathetic.  Its  greatest  monuments  have  only 
reached  us  in  a  ruined  state,  despoiled  of  their  marble  facings 
and  artistic  friezes ;  their  sculpture  appears  to  be  the  field  of 
a  terrible  battle,  strewn  with  mutilated  bodies,  with  head- 
less and  limbless  trunks ;  their  books  have  many  of  them 
been  lost  or  reached  us  in  fragments,  damaged  by  fire  from 
which  they  only  escaped  by  chance.  Not  even  genius  could 
subdue  the  element  of  decadence  in  ancient  society  which 
originated  in  war.  Under  the  ruins  of  Rome  the  master- 
pieces of  Phidias,  the  greater  part  of  Aristotle's  books  lie 
buried ;  and  those  few  things  which  have  survived  this 
universal  ruin,  only  cause  us  to  realize  the  better  what  an 
immense  conflagration  of  precious  things  was  entailed  by  the 
ending  of  the  ancient  world,  and  what  innumerable  treasures 
were  then  reduced  to  ashes. 

And  yet  this  decay  was  a  necessary  coefficient  of  greatness. 
In  the  ancient  world  it  was  not  possible  to  live  well  except 
by  living  briefly.  A  great  life  was  fatally  a  short  one :  a 
tragic  law  essential  to  the  fundamental  vices  of  ancient 
civilizations.  It  is  possible  for  us  moderns  to  realize  with 
precision  to  what  interminably  long  and  shameful  decadence 
ancient  states  were  subject,  if  no  great  wars  came  to  re- 
animate their  sinking  life,  when  they  had  reached  the  period 
of  concentration  of  capital,  land,  and  depopulation.  We  can 
realize  this,  because  barbarous  tribes  to  this  day  furnish  a 
mirror  for  the  past  history  of  civilized  races.  There  still 
exists  a  nation  whose  slow  death  shows  us  what  life  too 
much  prolonged  signifies  to  a  society  in  which  exist  the 
vices  proper  to  ancient  civilizations  :  I  refer  to  Turkey. 


THE    DEATH -THROES    OF    A 
NATION 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    DEATH-THROES    OF  A  NATION 


IN  many  respects  Turkey  resembles  ancient  societies,  because 
in  it  we  find  their  three  cardinal  vices :  lack  of  industry, 
simplicity  of  life,  and  ignorance,  with  the  accompanying 
difficulty  for  the  productive  investment  of  capital.  The 
Turkish  people  consume  little  and  work  little.  Turks  do  not 
find  happiness  in  the  morbid  activity  of  Europeans  and 
Americans,  which  appears  madness  to  them.  Their  ideal,  on 
the  contrary,  is  a  quiet  life  of  absolute  repose,  idleness  com-  ' 
forted  by  coffee  and  tobacco,  chief.  Europeans  have  only 
managed  to  introduce  their  goods  into  Turkey  on  a  small 
scale.  Tobacco  to  the  whole  nation,  coffee,  and  a  comfort- 
able harem  to  the  rich,  are  their  goals  of  luxury.  The  Turks 
are  conservative  in  their  mode  of  living,  and  slowly  alter  or 
augment  their  requirements.  Great  industries,  business  and 
capitalism  on  a  large  scale,  are  unknown  quantities  to  them. 
Europeans  trade;vvith  Constantinople — that  is  to  say,  they  buy 
there  the  many  things  required  in  Europe — but  the  Turks  and 
Mussulmans,  who  form  the  ruling  class,  only  desire  to  be 
agriculturists,  soldiers,  officials,  or  priests  ;  they  only  wish  to 
exercise  those  traditional  professions  which  demand  neither 
hard  nor  long  work.  To  cultivate  the  earth  in  accordance 
with  accepted  precepts,  to  idle  in  barracks,  to  smoke  and 


140  MILITARISM 

snooze  in  offices  and  mosques,  writing  a  letter  once  a  week,  or 
occasionally  murmuring  a  prayer — this  appears  to  the  Turk 
as  the  only  life  worth  living.  To  live  in  this  manner  he  is 
frequently  forced  to  put  up  with  poverty,  to  practise  every 
possible  economy  ;  but  this  is  of  little  moment  to  him,  because, 
like  the  ancients,  the  Turk  prefers  the  pleasures  of  idleness 
to  those  of  an  active  existence.  In  this  sense,  Islamism  is 
still  the  best  representative  of  the  ancient  spirit,  for  this 
reason  it  is  vain  ever  to  hope  to  introduce  great  capitalistic 
industries  and  modern  civilization  into  Mussulman  countries. 
The  result  is  that  in  Turkey  ambitious  minorities  seek  to 
satisfy  their  desires  by  plunder,  as  happened  in  the  ancient 
world.  Turkey  finds  herself  at  present  in  a  period  of 
stagnation.  We  may  presume  that  the  Persian  and  Egyptian 
empires  found  themselves  in  an  analogous  condition  before 
Alexander's  conquest.  Only  as  the  Turkish  Empire  is  suffer- 
ing from  this  disease  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
in  the  midst  of  universal  peace  in  an  era  when  no  Alexander 
turns  up  to  put  a  stop  to  this  stagnation  of  wealth,  this  decay 
slowly  continues,  corrupts  society,  lowering  the  people  to  a 
state  of  odious  barbarism,  ruining  everything  in  the  vast 
empire.  Without  periodical  wars,  or  the  possibility  of  in- 
vasion by  some  outside  nation,  this  society,  which  represents 
the  old  world  in  so  many  of  its  characteristics,  is  decaying, 
and  exhales  miasma  like  stagnant  water. 


II 

Turkey  presents  four  distinctive  symptoms  of  decay,  viz. — 

1.  The   dispersal   and   concentration   of  capital,   and   the 
uncultivated  state  of  the  land. 

2.  The  dissolution  of  the  bureaucracy. 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  141 

3.  The  mania  for  persecution  displayed  by  the  government. 

4.  The  social  dissolution  consequent  on  usury. 

The  present  crisis  in  Turkey  is  largely  due  to  the  waste 
and  concentration  of  capital  which  culminated  during  the 
reign  of  Adbul  Azis,  the  uncle  of  the  present  Sultan,  who  was 
deposed  and  assassinated  in  a  domestic  revolution  in  1876. 
From  the  beginning  of  his  reign  a  demoniacal  mania  for 
waste  characterized  the  ruling  oligarchy  of  the  empire.  The 
enormously  increased  taxes  no  longer  satisfied  their  greed  ; 
and  the  Turkish  government  got  into  debt  to  the  extent  of 
£120,000,000,  negotiating  the  famous  Turkish  loan,  of  such 
painful  memory  to  all  European  bond-holders.  Public  funds 
were  squandered,  not  for  the  public  good,  but  to  maintain 
senseless  court  extravagances  and  large  swarms  of  parasites 
who,  on  various  pretexts,  managed  to  live  in  luxury.  It  is 
calculated  that  in  the  Sultan's  palace  there  were  1200 
odalisques,  6000  servants  and  800  cooks,  and  that  1200  oxen 
were  provided  for  the  Sultan's  kitchen  every  day.  "All  the 
sultans,"  writes  Kesuin  Bey,1  "  have  a  passion  for  destruc- 
tion. The  European  is  dumbfounded  at  the  sight  of  these 
immense  palaces,  modest  enough  in  their  exterior,  but  mar- 
vellously luxurious  inside.  All  these  palaces  are  deserted  and 
so  neglected  that  they  are  all  falling  into  decay.  They  were 
built  to  satisfy  some  caprice,  but  the  caprice  died  with  the 
builder,  and  sometimes  even  before  his  death.  All  along  the 
shores  of  the  Bosphorus  are  sprinkled  these  chiosques  (from 
the  Turkish  word  kieuchy).  The  whole  country  is  rich  in 
imperial  residences,  which  prove,  on  inspection,  to  be  all  in  a 
state  of  ruin.  Nothing  is  more  funereal  than  these  splendid 
buildings,  which  stand  out  solitarily  in  the  midst  of  desert 
plains,  half  ruined,  like  the  relics  of  some  ancient  civilization." 

1  Kesuin  Bey,  "  Le  mal  d'Orient,"  Marpon  e  Flammarion,  p.  10, 


142  MILITARISM 

The  high  officials  imitate  the  example  and  luxury  of  their 
sovereign  ;  they  bleed  the  treasury  so  as  to  make  a  grand 
display,  to  collect  a  select  harem,  to  accumulate  gold  and 
maintain  large  retinues  of  servants,  who  form  a  proof  to  the 
public  of  their  power  and  wealth.  A  Turk  who  desires  to 
grow  rich  has  no  other  means  than  that  of  preying  on  the 
state,  with  all  the  violence  or  cunning  of  which  he  is  capable, 
It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  many  pashas  amassed  great 
wealth  during  their  time  of  office,  that  the  Sultan  is  one  of 
the  richest  sovereigns  in  the  world,  and  his  court  a  vast  store 
of  precious  metals.  It  is  said  that  he  possesses  gold,  silver, 
jewels  and  lands  to  the  value  of  over  ,£40,000,000  ;  but  whether 
this  calculation  be  correct  or  not,  it  is  anyway  certain  that 
Abdul  Hamid  is  as  great  a  hoarder  of  precious  metals  as 
the  Oriental  sovereigns  of  old.  Thus  in  Turkey,  as  in  the 
ancient  world,  the  small  ruling  minority,  covetous  of  wealth, 
accumulates  capital  and  withdraws  it  from  circulation. 


III 

This  evil  naturally  leads  to  others,  amongst  which  the  most 
serious  is  the  agrarian  crisis. 

Asia  Minor,  the  ancient  seat  of  so  many  civilizations,  the 
granary  and  orchard  of  Europe,  from  which  came  corn, 
peaches,  prunes,  apricots,  myrtle,  and  a  thousand  other 
necessities  and  luxuries,  appears  to-day  to  have  lost  all  its 
former  fertility.  Turkey  no  longer  produces  sufficient  grain 
for  its  own  consumption,  and  Constantinople  would  be 
reduced  to  a  state  of  famine  if  the  export  of  corn  from 
Russia  and  Hungary  were  suspended  for  a  few  days.  The 
country  where  the  splendid  Syrian  race  of  horses  was 
bred,  now  only  pastures  a  wretched,  mangy  breed,  so  that  the 


THE   DEATH-THROES   OF  A    NATION  143 

Government  has  to  provide  the  army  with  steeds  from 
Hungary.  The  land  is  rich  in  pasture,  and  yet  the  breeding 
of  cattle  is  almost  unknown  ;  a  considerable  number  of 
beasts  for  slaughter  are  imported  from  abroad ;  milk  is 
expensive,  and  butter  is  sent  over  from  Italy.  Asia  Minor 
was  very  rich  in  trees,  and  possessed  fifty-two  varieties  of 
oak  alone  ;  but  now  combustibles  have  become  so  scarce 
that  the  peasants  burn  manure  to  warm  themselves.  Im- 
mense areas  of  land  lie  uncultivated,  and  supply  every  day 
grows  less  adequate  to  demand,  so  that  Turkey  could  not 
exist  without  the  produce  of  poorer  countries.  This  un- 
productiveness increases  so  rapidly,  that  the  Mussulman 
peasant,  thick-headed  and  apathetic  as  he  is,  is  beginning 
to  feel  a  vague  sense  of  alarm.  He  can  remember  hearing 
his  old  people  say  that  the  increase  of  the  sowing  was  twenty 
times,  while  now  it  never  renders  more  than  seven. 

And  yet  this  land,  which  every  day  becomes  poorer,  is 
nearly  all  possessed  by  the  Government,  and  tilled  by  the 
Turkish-speaking  Mussulman  population.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  Armenian  districts,  the  land  is  never  cultivated 
by  Christians  ;  they  practise  professions  and  engage  in  com- 
merce, whilst  the  possession  of  the  land,  participation  in  the 
government,  the  wielding  of  arms,  and  propagation  of  the 
official  religion  are  the  four  signs  of  Turkish  supremacy. 
But  though  the  Turks  have  conquered  by  force  a  great 
variety  of  nations,  their  pride  has  been  curbed  by  this 
obstinate  caprice  on  the  part  of  the  land  constantly  to 
diminish  its  produce.  The  earth  has  rebelled  against  its 
masters;  it  renders  life  in  the  conquered  regions  every 
year  more  impossible,  making  vain  the  conquests  of 
these  marvellous  regions.  The  disciples  of  Mahomet 
have  forced  by  the  sword  the  gates  of  this  paradise,  full  of 


144  MILITARISM 

all  the  magnificence  and  sweetness  of  nature,  which  should 
have  been  reserved  for  the  most  elect  members  of  the  human 
race,  and  lo  !  the  paradise  is  slowly  degenerating  into  an 
uninhabitable  desert,  in  which  the  conquering  nation  cannot 
exist. 

Now,  all  this  indicates,  and  at  the  same  time  punishes, 
the  iniquity  and  injustice  of  a  nation.  In  the  most  terrible 
moments  of  history,  man  has  always  asked  himself  this 
question  :  "What  will  happen  when  the  cup  of  iniquity  over- 
flows ? "  He  has  pictured  sudden  chastisements  which 
descend  on  the  human  race  like  thunderbolts  hurled  by  some 
superior  power,  which  readjust  at  a  blow  the  unstable 
equilibrium  of  justice  !  In  his  Infantile  simplicity  and  im- 
patience, he  has  always  allowed  himself  to  be  seduced  by 
the  image  of  these  resolving  catastrophes,  and  has  not 
realized  that  not  from  above,  but  right  in  front  of  him,  was 
a  slow  but  infallible  Nemesis,  a  force  capable  of  re-establishing 
justice  in  the  relations  between  men:  the  very  nature  by  which 
he  lived.  To  keep  the  destructive  forces  of  nature  within 
bounds,  to  cultivate  the  earth  without  ruining  or  exhausting 
it,  is  a  delicate  work  which  all  manner  of  men  have 
attempted,  but  in  which  only  men  of  refined  customs  and 
long-standing  civilization  have  succeeded.  The  warlike 
1  Ottoman  race,  in  its  life  of  brigandage  and  strife,  was 
•J  certainly  not  best  prepared  for  this  sacred  work ;  but  what 
|  could  happen  when  the  Mussulman  peasant,  already  unfit 
/  for  this  mission,  was  still  more  barbarized  by  the  oppression 
of  a  scoundrelly  Government  ? 

The  dishonesty  of  the  high  officials,  anxious  to  enrich 
themselves,  necessitated  a  foolish  increase  in  taxation.  The 
taxes  on  agriculture  were  so  raised  as  to  reduce  to  misery 
a  large  portion  of  the  laborious  population;  whose  distress 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  145 

was  embittered  by  arbitrariness  and  caprice  in  the  methods 
of  exaction.  Even  to-day  the  Turkish  peasant,  after  having 
paid  the  tithe  of  his  produce  to  the  tax-collector,  has  been 
forced  to  submit  to  the  exaction  of  the  vali  or  governor, 
those  of  the  mutusarif,  or  prefect,  of  the  caimacanor,  sub- 
prefect  ;  and  if  anything  escapes  the  rapacity  of  all  these 
officials,  the  wretched  peasant  may  yet  come  in  for  a 
regiment  on  march  through  the  country,  to  whose  nutriment 
he  has  to  contribute.  The  agriculturists,  ruined  by  taxes 
and  usury,  finally  go  to  swell  the  ranks  of  mendicants,  who- 
form  the  base  of  town  populations,  or  they  seek  the  post  of 
servant  or  parasite  in  some  rich  house,  whilst  ;the  boldest 
become  brigands  in  the  wildest  and  most  deserted  regions. 
For  some  time  past  brigandage  has  flourished  in  Turkey,  and 
has  been  one  of  its  greatest  scourges.  It  has  grown  so  much 
in  strength  and  audacity,  that  the  brigands  now  venture 
under  the  very  gates  of  Smyrna  and  Salonicus,  and  plunder 
the  environs  of  Constantinople.  But  the  brigands,  like  the 
usurers  and  officials,  are  a  class  who  live  in  a  great  measure 
by  extorting  taxes  from  the  peasantry. 

Exploited  by  publicans,  brigands,  officials,  and  usurers, 
the  Turkish  peasant  gradually  degenerates,  without  resistance 
or  complaint,  into  a  state  of  careless  resignation.  Of  wonder- 
ful sobriety,  he  contents  himself  by  producing  that  little  which 
suffices  to  keep  himself  and  his  family  in  existence,  and  to 
procure  an  occasional  pound  of  tobacco,  smoking  which,  he 
is  able  to  indulge  in  the  voluptuous  inertia  of  kief.  Kief, 
which  signifies  absolute  idleness,  the  entire  inertia  of  body 
and  soul,  represents  to  him  the  height  of  human  bliss.  He 
avoids,  therefore,  every  species  of  effort ;  he  does  not  work 
hard,  but  barely  scratches  the  earth,  and  has  reached  such  an 
incredible  degree  of  indifference  and  improvidence,  as  to  have 

K 


146  MILITARISM 

quite  forgotten  the  use  of  manure.  The  Mussulman  peasant 
appears  to  ignore  the  fact  that  the  fertility  of  land  diminishes 
with  long  cultivation,  and  so  he  does  not  trouble  to  enrich 
his  soil :  he  uses  manure  as  a  combustible. 

With  the  falling-off  in  the  productiveness  of  the  soil  the 
population  decreases.  From  time  to  time,  as  happened  in 
1876  and  1878,  terrible  famines  overtake  the  land  and  make 
fearful  gaps  in  the  Turkish  peasantry ;  in  normal  times, 
chronic  hunger  and  disease  silently  decimate  this  people, 
destined  to  disappear.-  Entire  villages  have  vanished  in  the 
interior  of  Anatolia.  Turkey  is  not  a  nation  given  to  statis- 
tics, and  so  it  is  impossible  to  calculate  with  precision  this 
decrease  in  the  population  ;  but  there  is  no  denying  the 
truth  of  the  fact,  in  face  of  the  unanimity  of  all  writers  who 
affirm  that  the  rustic  population  of  Turkey  decreases  every 
day  decimated  by  chronic  poverty,  famines,  administrative 
ill-treatment,  and  no  less  by  the  burden  of  military  service, 
which  weighs  on  the  Mussulman  peasantry  to  the  entire  ex- 
clusion of  Christians.  Christians  take  no  part  in  war ;  and 
thus  wars,  whether  fortunate  or  not,  have  one  certain  result : 
that  of  diminishing  a  class  of  men,  who,  owing  to  the  extreme 
misery  in  which  they  exist,  are  never  able  entirely  to  recover 
from  their  continual  losses. 

Thus  the  conquerors  and  rulers,  whilst  oppressing  the 
people  of  whom  the  fortunes  of  war  have  made  them  master, 
accomplish  a  slow  suicide.  In  these  military  countries,  which 
remind  us  of  ancient  societies,  war  ends  by  destroying  the 
\victors  with  the  vanquished  ;  it  mingles  their  ashes  under 
the  earth  once  vainly  defended  by  one,  vainly  conquered  by 
the  other,  and,  summoning  another  race  to  live  there,  it 
settles  for  ever  the  disputes  of  ages.  Do  I  hear  Rome  named 
the  Eternal  ?  Her  walls  certainly,  if  not  eternal,  have  made 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  147 

a  long  resistance  ;  not  so  her  men.  In  the  century  of  the 
Antonines  not  a  single  pure  Roman,  perhaps,  existed  ;  not 
a  single  descendant,  that  is  to  say,  of  a  single  family  of  those 
which  had  combated  the  Samnites.  The  true  Rome  which 
founded  the  Empire  perished  centuries  before,  while  the 
Rome  which  benefited  by  the  Empire  was  composed  of  the 
descendants  of  the  conquered.  The  first  wore  itself  out  in 
the  gigantic  efforts  of  dispersing  and  destroying  so  many 
races,  so  that  at  the  moment  when  its  work  neared  con- 
summation it  went  to  join,  in  the  void  of  things  that  have 
been,  Carthage  and  its  other  victims. 


IV 

The  other  symptom  of  decay,  the  dissolution  of  the  bureau-  r 
cracy,  is  another  effect  of  administrative  wantonness.  The 
Turkish  treasury  was  unable  to  withstand  such  wholesale 
robbery,  and  in  the  end  was  forced  to  stop  payment.  The 
State,  in  consequence,  could  not  remunerate  its  functionaries, 
more  especially  the  middle  and  lower  ones. 

This  is  the  condition  of  the  Turkish  bureaucracy  of  to-day  ^ 
— only  the  high  functionaries  are  regularly  paid,  the  others 
are  only  paid  when  the  Government  finds  it  convenient. 
Thus  it  is  calculated  that  on  the  average  an  official,  captain 
or  major  in  the  Turkish  army,  does  not  receive  regularly  and 
directly  more  than  one  month's  salary  a  year,  or  at  the  best 
two  months'.  The  arrears  frequently  accumulate  for  years. 
The  arrant  selfishness  of  the  court  and  bureaucracy,  who, 
being  hard  up,  think  only  of  their  own  interests,  and  abandon 
the  lower  and  medium  officials  to  their  own  devices,  has 
made  of  them  a  body  of  blackmailers  who  live  by  oppressing 
and  exploiting  the  population. 


148  MILITARISM 

All  those  who  have  visited  or  written  about  Turkey : 
journalists,  travellers,  English  consuls,  repeat  the  same  com- 
plaint regarding  the  corruption  of  the  high  Turkish  officials- 
one  of  the  plagues  of  Turkey,  as  it  has  been  named.  Judges 
sell  their  sentences,  police  officials  imprison  innocent  men, 
and  make  them  buy  their  liberty  at  a  high  price  by  means 
of  threats  ;  the  tax-collectors  raise  or  lower  the  duties  at  their 
own  discretion,  gaining  on  the  concessions  they  graciously 
make  to  debtors ;  the  officials  who  have  to  deal  with  Govern- 
ment contracts  make  profit  out  of  them  ;  those  charged  with 
any  sort  of  supervision  take  bribes  from  the  supervized  ; 
all,  in  short,  make  use  of  the  small  amount  of  authority  con- 
ceded to  them,  to  terrify  their  subjects  and  extract  money. 
No  remedy  for  this  evil  is  possible,  because  the  small  officials 
have  no  other  means  of  living,  and  the  higher  ones  set  the 
worst  possible  example.  A  governor,  Bahri  Pasha,  who  till 
recently  was  vali  at  Van,  in  Armenia,  reached  such  a  depth 
of  villainy  as  to  excite  the  Kurds  to  attack,  rob,  and  burn 
the  harvests  of  the  Armenian  peasants,  so  that  corn  should 
not  sell  too  low  in  the  markets  of  his  vilayet,  and  he  be  able 
to  make  a  larger  profit  on  the  tithes  which  every  peasant 
is  compelled  to  pay  the  Government. 

Indeed,  State  disorder  has  reached  such  a  degree  that 
corruption  is  no  longer  so  much  an  evil  as  a  vital  force, 
without  which  the  Turkish  executive  would  collapse  ;  it  never 
moves  in  any  matter  except  when  the  officials  see  some 
possibility  of  making  bakshish.  To  give  an  idea  of  the 
incredible  impudence  and  audacity  displayed  by  the  Turkish 
Government,  it  will  suffice  to  recount  the  affair  of  the  railway 
which  was  to  have  been  constructed  between  Brussa  and 
Mudiana.  The  Turkish  treasury  assigned  about  £6,000,000 
for  this  purpose,  nearly  the  whole  of  which  sum  it  disbursed  ; 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  149 

but  not  a  single  yard  of  the  railway  was  constructed,  because 
the  money  was  all  swallowed  up  in  bribes.  The  funds  col- 
lected, the  Minister  of  Public  Works  hastened  to  order  in 
Europe  the  locomotives  and  material  necessary,  in  order  that 
the  big  officials  could  make  considerable  sums  out  of  the 
contractors,  and  this  ready,  it  became  necessary  for  the 
engineers  to  get  out  plans  for  the  proposed  line,  out  of 
which  job  no  tips  could  be  extracted.  The  engineers,  in 
consequence,  did  nothing  at  all ;  the  goods  which  had  been 
bought  were  allowed  to  rust  at  Mudiana,  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  spot  where  the  railway  was  to  commence,  and  for  long 
after,  nothing  remained  of  the  railway  but  a  report  in  which 
the  Minister  of  Public  Works  informed  the  Sultan  that  the 
line  was  nearing  its  completion,  and  in  which  he  described 
the  construction,  route,  and  stations. 

Later  on,  indeed,  the  railway  was  entirely  constructed,  the 
rails  laid  down,  the  stations  built ;  but  only  to  be  left  severely 
alone,  as  no  train  was  ever  run  there.  To-day  the  stations 
are  falling  to  ruin,  the  rails  are  rusting,  the  locomotives  sleep 
in  their  depots.  The  neighbouring  peasants  rummage  amongst 
the  ruins  for  unconsidered  trifles  ;  and  Angoran  goats  "  with 
splendid  fleece,  calmly  browse  on  the  long  grass  which  grows 
in  the  waiting-rooms  of  the  stations."  l 


V 

Having  finished  with  the  recent  symptom  of  decadence  in 
a  military  empire,  the  dissolution  of  the  bureaucracy,  we  will 
now  consider  the  third:  the  mania  for  persecution.  When  a 
great  man  is  at  the  head  of  a  decaying  state,  the  gravity  of  the 

1  Kesuin  Bey,  op.  cif.t  p.  59. 


1 50  MILITARISM 

danger  may  rouse  him  up  to  heroic  defence.  But  it  is  almost 
an  historical  law  that  for  every  sovereign  of  superior  mind 
and  heart,  there  are  always  ten  weak,  inane,  and  selfish  ones. 
Now,  only  very  superior  minds  are  able  to  maintain  their 
balance  in  face  of  serious  peril ;  weaker  ones  are  often  roused 
to  great  egoism  by  fear.  Fear  has  the  most  possible  influence 
on  a  weak  character ;  it  frequently  happens  that  men,  not 
bad  by  nature,  but  merely  weak  and  stupid,  are  led  under  its 
sway  to  acts  of  cruelty  which  the  most  inhuman  of  tyrants 
would  not  have  committed. 

Such  is  the  state  of  things  prevailing  in  the  royal  palace 
at  Constantinople.  Abdul  Hamid,  according  to  those  who 
have  known  him,  is  a  weak  and  consequently  selfish  man 
rather  than  a  downright  bad  one,  whose  natural  egoism  has 
been  increased  by  the  life  of  unbounded  pleasure  which  a  man 
in  his  condition  is  almost  forced  to  live  ;  he  is  a  man  in  whom 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation  is  so  strong  as  to  raise  in  him 
at  times  paroxysms  of  fear  and  outbursts  of  fury,  vain  fears 
and  mad  rages.  His  counsellors,  the  better  part  of  whom 
are  astute  and  cunning,  but  currupt,  greedy  and  ambitious, 
instead  of  trying  to  correct  these  painful  terrors  in  their 
lord,  make  use  of  them  to  augment  their  authority.  "  The 
imagination  of  the  courtiers,"  writes  Kesuin,  "  never  wearies 
of  inventing  new  alarms  and  plots,  and  of  multiplying 
espionage.  Even  the  great  men  of  the  empire  are  not  in- 
sured against  these  calumnies.  .  .  .  Such  and  such  a  pasha 
is  growing  too  powerful ;  .  .  .  another  has  relations  with 
Europeans  ;  .  .  .  a  third  receives  papers  from  Paris,  the  hot- 
bed of  universal  socialism.  ...  By  means  of  these  alarms 
they  succeed  in  keeping  the  Sultan  in  a  continual  state  of 
factitious  excitement,  which  paralyzes  him  for  any  good."  1 
1  Kesuin  Bey,  p.  91.  } 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A    NATION 

Thus   to   the  Sultan's  ears  the  buzzing  of  a  fly  sounds 
formidable  as  the  crash  of  an  earthquake. 

What  a  torment  such  an  existence  of  terror  must  be  ! 
Only  Shakespeare,  perhaps,  could  adequately  describe  it. 
The  Sultan  lives  at  Yeldiz  Kiosk,  in  a  monumental  palace 
resembling  a  rock  surrounded  by  granite  ramparts,  guarded 
by  huge  barracks,  in  which  reside  an  army  ready  at  any 
moment  to  rush  to  the  assistance  of  their  master.  And  yet 
in  the  heart  of  his  fortress,  protected  by  an  army,  the  Sultan 
trembles  night  and  day  ;  and  in  company  with  his  friends  he 
constantly  plans  new  schemes  of  defence,  now  violent  and 
tragical,  now  puerile  and  absurd.  Thousands  of  spies  swarm 
everywhere  in  Constantinople.  All  importation  of  explosives 
is  prohibited  by  the  Government,  so  that  the  peasant  cannot 
even  buy  sulphide  of  carbon  to  protect  their  vines  from 
phylloxera.  Telephones  are  prohibited,  so  frequently  are 
fireworks.  Some  years  ago,  in  consequence  of  the  Sultan 
receiving  several  threatening  letters  posted  in  Constantinople, 
the  internal  post  of  the  town  was  completely  prohibited. 
The  Sultan  scarcely  ever  dares  leave  his  palace  on  the  plateau 
of  the  Yeldiz  ;  but  even  so,  he  does  not  escape  the  torments 
of  fear.  Yeldiz,  a  few  years  ago,  was  still  a  solitude  overrun 
by  weeds  on  which  a  royal,  and  many  other  superb,  palaces, 
were  erected,  thanks  to  the  water  conveyed  there  by  means 
of  an  aqueduct  constructed  by  a  French  company.  But  this 
company  risked  having  to  abandon  the  work,  and  being 
ruined,  because  a  zealous  functionary  insinuated  to  Abdul 
Hamid  that  his  enemies  would  be  able  to  use  it  as  a  mine  in 
order  to  secrete  dynamite.  The  Sultan,  terrified  like  a  child 
at  this  idea,  ordered  the  immediate  suspension  of  the  work, 
and  nominated  a  commission  to  inquire  into  the  facts  of  the 
case.  The  commission,  composed  of  high  court  officials,  made 


15^  MILITARISM 

an  examination,  and,  thanks  to  the  astute  corruption  of  the 
society,  concluded  that  there  was  no  danger. 

A  trifling  anecdote,  but  one  which  reveals  well  the  mental 
state  prevailing  at  the  Turkish  Court,  determining  the 
internal  politics  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  in  its  minor  acts, 
no  less  than  in  those  infinitely  tragical  episodes  known  to  us 
as  the  Armenian  atrocities  that  horrified  Europe  during  the 
last  few  years.  The  Sultan  and  his  environment  constantly 
see  the  sovereign's  life  and  the  welfare  of  the  empire 
threatened  by  internal  foes.  To  defend  themselves  from 
these,  they  multiply  cruel  and  futile  persecutions,  and,  while 
neglecting  all  real  dangers,  create  new  ones  for  the  State. 

One  of  the  worst  forms  taken  by  this  oppression  is  seen 
when  a  province,  considered  tainted  with  dangerous  agitation, 
passes  from  the  Ministerial  Government  to  that  of  the  Sultan. 
The  provinces  are  governed  in  ordinary  times  by  the  Sultan's 
ministers,  to  whom  he  delegates  his  power.  But  it  does  not 
appear  that  he  places  much  confidence  in  his  representatives, 
possibly  because  he  has  learnt  from  his  country's  history  that 
all  former  plots  against  his  predecessors  were  originated  by 
their  ministers.  Consequently  when  the  Sultan  is  more  than 
usually  disquiet,  he  orders  that  some  province,  which  appears 
to  him  in  an  exceptionally  threatening  state,  should  be 
placed  under  his  direct  supervision.  From  that  moment  only 
those  orders  which  come  straight  from  the  palace  are  valid, 
and  the  officials  act  under  the  Sultan's  direct  orders,  and 
to  them  any  complaint  against  the  functionaries  must  be 
directed.  It  can  easily  be  understood  how,  under  these 
circumstances,  any  control  over  the  officials,  however  feeble, 
is  lost,  how  the  law  forfeits  even  the  small  influence  it 
boasts  in  normal  times,  while  the  people  are  entirely 
abandoned  to  the  caprice  of  unscrupulous  bureaucrats.  For 


THE  DEATH-THROWS   OF  A   NATION  153 

instance :  the  police  arrest  a  man  as  a  suspect,  or  as  being 
concerned  in  a  political  offence.  The  provincial  court  before 
which  he  is  brought  absolves  him,  but  the  police  keep  him  in 
prison  as  long  as  they  choose,  because  he  is  considered  to  be 
imprisoned  by  the  Sultan's  orders,  so  that  no  provincial 
court  has  power  to  order  his  release.  The  complaints  of  the 
victim  never  reach  the  Sultan,  who,  after  throwing  thousands 
of  families  on  the  mercy  of  a  tyrannical  and  unscrupulous 
administration,  abandons  them  to  their  fate,  callous  to  the 
injustices  and  iniquities  committed  in  his  name,  and  satisfied 
with  the  thought  that  he  has  thus  averted  an  imminent  peril 
from  his  throne. 


VI 

Arrests  en  masse,  the  secret  execution  of  suspects  and  those 
accused  of  conspiracy,  the  Government  of  terror,  in  short,  as 
arbitrary  and  ferocious  as  it  can  be  in  a  country  like  Turkey, 
such  are  the  tactics  of  this  oligarchy  of  madmen  and  scoun- 
drels. These  oppressions  are  the  work  of  the  bureaucracy  ; 
but  besides  these,  there  is  another  infamy  in  which  the 
whole  Mussulman  population  is  accomplice.  I  allude  to 
the  Armenian  massacres,  whose  consideration  leads  us  to  the 
study  of  the  fourth  phenomenon  of  Turkish  decadence. 

The  "  Armenian  atrocities  "  have  been  very  widely  discussed 
during  these  last  years.  The  European  press  had  described 
its  most  terrible  episodes,  and  the  general  opinion  seems  to 
be  that  their  sole  cause  lay  in  the  innate  brutality  of  the 
Turkish  population.  And  yet  even  Turkish  ferocity  is  not 
without  some  incentive,  motive,  or  at  least  excuse  :  even  a 
Turk,  unspeakable  as  he  is,  does  not  amuse  himself  by  wallow- 
ing in  Christian  blood  as  a  mere  pastime.  The  Armenian 


154  MILITARISM 

massacres  are  not  merely  a  new  chapter  in  the  history  of 
fanaticism,  a  religious  war  ;  they  are  the  convulsions  of  a  dying 
nation,  a  last  desperate  and  ferocious  struggle  between  two 
societies,  embittered  by  all  degrees  of  cruelty  ranging  from 
fanaticism  to  greed. 

The  Armenian  crisis  is  connected  with  a  phenomenon 
common  to  the  decadence  of  all  military  empires  :  usury. 
The  usurer,  that  shady  character  who  in  modern  times  has 
degenerated  into  the  hidden  accomplice  of  the  dissipated  sons 
of  rich  families,  used  to  be  an  historical  force,  and  he  fulfilled 
at  certain  moments  the  solemn  and  terrible  office  of  social 
executioner  to  a  corrupt  society. 

This  is  now  happening  in  Turkey.  The  bureaucracy,  drawn 
for  the  most  part  from  the  Mussulman  population,  lives  on 
what  it  can  extort  from  the  workers,  and,  though  forming  the 
highest  class  in  Turkish  society,  is  by  no  means  rich.  If  we 
except  the  high  State  dignitaries,  the  majority  of  the  officials 
live  poorly,  are  badly  paid,  and  display  no  aptitude  to  save. 
The  economy  of  a  family  of  Turkish  functionaries,  whether 
situated  high  or  low  in  the  hierarchy,  is  as  follows :  When 
there  is  money,  to  spend  it  recklessly ;  when  funds  are  low,  to 
live  as  circumstances  best  permit.  To  save  or  accumulate 
are  two  things  of  \\hich  a  Turkish  functionary  is  incapable. 
Thus  no  one  knows  how  to  make  use  of  those  strokes  of 
fortune  which,  in  the  midst  of  such  general  administrative 
chaos,  befall  many  officials,  and  which  would  enable  him  to 
put  by  a  little  store.  Everything  is  rapidly  dissipated  in 
luxuries,  presents,  and  generosities,  because  a  well-to-do  Turk 
is  fond  of  spending  liberally,  not  only  for  his  own  satisfaction, 
but  for  that  of  others.  A  little  pleasure  which  a  Turk  with 
some  money  to  throw  away  always  allows  himself,  is  that  of 
buying  small  loaves  to  distribute  among  the  innumerable 


THE   DEATH-THROES   OF  A    NATION  155 

dogs  which  haunt  the  streets  of  Constantinople.  A  great 
part  of  the  bureaucracy  live  in  very  straitened  circumstances, 
enlivened  occasionally  by  some  orgy  or  dissipation,  the  result 
of  some  more  than  commonly  generous  bribe. 

The  Armenian,  on  the  contrary,  who  has  abandoned  his 
native  plains  and  mountains  because  unable  to  cultivate  them, 
is  an  industrious  man  of  business,  gifted  with  sobriety,  provi- 
dence, and  those  miserly  habits  which  go  to  build  up  large 
fortunes.  Whilst  the  Turk  spends,  the  Armenian  hoards  ;  a 
conflict  ensues  between  the  pair,  in  which  the  former  represents 
reed  and  the  latter  money,  arms^and  usury.  The  Armenian 
merchant  in  large  Turkish  towns  is  generally  by  necessity  a 
usurer,  whether  on  a  larger  or  smaller  scale,  whether  avowed 
or  dissimulated.  The  Turkish  Government,  by  administrative 
depredations,  systematically  reduces  the  wealth  of  society 
and  contracts  to  the  minimum  the  productive  investment  of 
capital ;  it  discourages  any  industrial  enterprise  by  heavy 
taxation ;  it  renders  commerce  impossible  by  the  utter 
neglect  of  public  works  in  the  provinces.  Under  these  con- 
ditions the  Armenian's  capital,  which  in  a  more  industrious 
and  productive  society  would  be  accumulated  in  banks  and 
help  to  develop  the  immense  latent  natural  wealth  of  the 
empire,  has  to  seek  a  usurious  investment,  which,  owing  to 
the  indolent  habits  of  the  Turkish  population,  proves  far 
more  profitable  than  any  industrial  or  seriously  productive 
speculation. 

To  illustrate  how  far  the  Armenian,  in  his  character  as 
money-lender,  aids  in  the  dissolution  of  Turkish  society,  and 
fattens  and  prospers  on  its  ruin,  as  the  bacilli  of  phthisis 
flourish  by  the  slow  death  of  the  being  upon  whom  they  live,  it 
suffices  to  cite  a  single  one  of  these  usurious  speculations,  which, 
in  the  Ottoman  Empire,  are  a  purely  Armenian  monopoly. 


156  MILITARISM 

This  is  the  speculation  of  the  seraf,  or  money-changer. 
We  have  seen  that  the  Turkish  civil  and  military  officials 
rarely  receive  more  than  one  month's  salary  in  the  course  of  a 
year.  It  might  therefore  be  supposed  that  the  Turkish  army, 
administrated  with  such  a  rigorous  system  of  economy,  would 
cost  but  little  to  the  Government  And  yet  the  Turkish  army 
costs  as  much  in  proportion  as  any  other  European  regularly 
paid  force,  because  the  Turkish  Government  disburses,  how- 
ever tardily,  the  sum  fixed  for  the  salary  of  its  officials  ; 
but  the  greater  part  of  this  sum,  instead  of  reaching  these 
officials,  finishes  in  the  hands  of  the  rich  Armenian  serafs. 

Here  is  the  strange  administrative  process  through  which 
this  is  accomplished.  The  Turkish  functionary  who  is 
embarrassed  and  has  saved  nothing,  and  who  is  consequently 
in  need  of  money  every  month  to  send  to  his  family,  sells  the 
payment-orders  for  his  salary  to  a  rich  Armenian  seraf,  who 
buys  it  at  a  rebate  of  60  or  80  per  cent.  When  he  has  bought 
for  ;£8oo  or  ;£icoo  several  payment-orders  to  the  value  of 
£4000,  he  goes  to  the  minister  on  whom  the  functionaries 
depend — to  the  Minister  of  War  if  he  has  been  dealing  with 
officers — where  he  has  friends  in  the  highest  ranks,  and  by 
the  distribution  of  bribes  he  manages  to  get  his  orders 
paid  at  a  reduction  of  20  or  25  per  cent.,  thus  making 
an  enormous  profit  out  of  the  transaction.  Thanks  to  this 
state  of  things,  a  large  part  of  the  revenue  goes  to  enrich 
Armenian  speculators  and  the  ministers  in  league  with 
them,  and  together  they  manage  to  make  money  out  of  the 
universal  ruin  of  the  Turkish  Empire.  They  find,  indeed,  that 
there  is  so  much  to  be  made  out  of  this  business  that  they  do 
their  best  to  prolong  the  conditions  which  render  it  possible : 
the  delay  in  payment.  It  oftens  happens  that  the  treasury 
has  money  in  hand  to  pay  the  salaries  punctually,  but  the 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  157 

ministers  delay  just  the  same  in  order  to  force  the  poor 
officials  to  treat  with  the  Armenian  usurers,  who  later  on  give 
them  their  share  of  the  profits.  If  to-morrow  a  reforming 
Sultan  wished  to  re-establish  punctuality  in  the  payment  of 
functionaries,  he  would  be  met  with  violent  opposition,  more 
especially  on  the  part  of  the  higher  dignitaries. 

This  is  a  typical  example,  but  the  entire  commerce  of  the 
Armenians  is  of  this  order — usury  exercised  on  the  careless  " 
and  indolent  Turkish  population.  An  improvident  Turkish 
peasant  finds  himself  in  need  of  funds.  An  Armenian 
merchant  from  the  neighbouring  village  will  lend  him  money 
at  an  exhorbitant  rate  of  interest,  for  which  the  Turk  always 
has  to  deliver  the  better  part  of  his  harvest  to  the  Armenian. 
An  official,  after  a  brief  period  of  good  luck,  finds  himself 
forced  to  sell  his  furniture  and  jewellery.  An  Armenian 
immediately  turns  up  to  buy  them  for  a  mere  nothing.  In 
every  conceivable  manner,  in  short,  the  Armenians  accumulate 
capital  in  their  hands,  withdraw  it  from  circulation,  hide  it 
away  as  a  reserve,  arid  employ  it,  not  to  enrich  society,  but 
to  expropriate  the  population  by  usury,  collaborating  with 
the  higher  functionaries  to  produce  that  stagnation  of  wealth 
which,  by  slow  degrees,  is  disorganizing  and  ruining  the 
Turkish  nation. 

Putrefaction  is  the  laboratory  of  life,  said  Karl  Marx.  Now, 
putrefaction  is  the  work  of  microbes,  who  are  thus  life's  most 
active  agents,  because  death  is  a  necessary  condition  prior  to 
life.  The  Armenian  usurer  is  a  microbe  of  putrefaction,  the  v 
most  active  agent  of  the  decay  which,  by  degrees,  destroys 
the  corrupt  body  of  the  Turkish  nation,  and  prepares,  by 
dissolution,  the  materials  for  a  new  and  better  society. 


MILITARISM 


VII 

The  financial  power  of  a  small  group  of  Armenian  usurers 
is,  moreover,  only  the  expression  of  a  more  general  pheno- 
menon :  a  continual  increase  in  the  number  of  Christians 
in  the  Turkish  Empire.  Masters  as  they  are  of  commerce, 
more  capable  of  capitalizing,  exempt  from  military  service, 
and  therefore  from  war,  they  multiply  and  constantly  increase 
their  social  power,  under  cover  of  the  humble  servility  of 
subjects.  They  exploit  the  poverty  of  the  poor  and  the  vices 
of  the  rich  ;  in  a  certain  sense  they  keep  the  executive  under 
their  thumb,  preying  on  the  salaries  of  the  lower  officials, 
dividing  the  spoils  of  their  villainy  with  the  highest,  who  thus 
become  their  accomplices.  They  are  contractors  to  the 
Government,  and  can  teach  both  Turks  and  Europeans  a  thing 
or  two  in  the  matter  of  fraud,  thus  working  towards  the  ruin 
of  the  Ottoman  Empire  more  effectually  than  any  army. 

They  do  not  derive  this  power  from  the  fact  of  being 
Christians,  but  from  having  exercised  certain  qualities  under 
oppression  and  in  servitude — stinginess,  industry,  and  thrift ; 
from  having  excelled  in  ingenuity  and  cunning ;  from  their 
Job-like  patience ;  from  having  lost,  moreover,  in  the  course 
of  their  terrible  struggle  with  their  oppressors,  the  last  vestige 
of  moral  scruple.  The  Turk,  on  the  contrary,  is  always 
liberal,  improvident,  and  idle,  and,  when  he  has  not  been 
J  demoralized  by  bureaucratic  life,  is  a  simple  and  good-natured 
man.  He  only  wishes  to  be  priest,  soldier,  official,  and 
agriculturist  because  he  naturally  prefers  repose  and  pleasure 
to  work.  As  agriculturist  he  confides  in  the  benignity  of  his 
land  ;  in  the  character  of  official  he  smokes  and  idles  in  his 
office ;  as  priest  or  soldier  he  snoozes  in  his  mosque  or 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A    NATION  159 

barrack.  Thus  the  power  acquired  by  the  Christians  is  merely 
the  victory  of  ingenious  energy  and  greed  over  indolent 
thriftlessness  ;  a  victory  which  was  inevitable,  and  which  no 
human  power  could  prevent,  as  nothing  can  prevent  the  fine 
point  of  a  diamond  penetrating  the  softer  rocks. 

This  tyrannical  military  bureaucracy,  in  the  midst  of  its 
slow  consuming  disease,  is  subject  to  attacks  of  fury,  during 
which  it  thinks  to  save  itself  by  resorting  to  the  prime  instru- 
ment of  its  power  :  force.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  the  state 
of  mind  in  which  a  Turk  finds  himself  when  watching  nearly 
his  whole  salary  disappearing  into  the  safes  of  a  rich  Armenian 
banker — this  interested  assistant  of  his  misery.  Everything 
induces  him  to  regard  the  Christian  as  his  enemy  and 
exploiter,  the  cause  of  his  poverty.  And  since  hatred  is  the 
most  communicative  human  sentiment,  and  the  one  most 
easily  generalized,  hatred  against  the  Armenian  usurer,  by 
a  very  common  psychological  process,  of  which  history  affords 
many  examples,  easily  develops  into  hatred  of  Armenians 
and  Christians  in  general ;  not  only  of  the  city  Armenian 
merchant,  but  also  of  the  Armenian  peasant  in  Armenia — a 
poor  wretched  being  dragging  out  a  miserable  existence,  who 
neither  enjoys  nor,  frequently,  knows  anything  of  the  wealth 
accumulated  by  his  lucky  compatriots  in  distant  towns.  Thus, 
through  fear  and  the  spirit  of  imitation  and  solidarity  which 
exists  in  evil,  this  hatred  passes  from  the  bureaucracy,  the 
principal  victim  of  Christian  usury,  to  the  whole  Mussulman 
and  Turkish-speaking  population  :  it  becomes  a  national  and 
religious  hatred. 

This  does  not  explain,  however,  why  this  hatred  has 
expressed  itself  of  late  years  in  periodical  massacres,  almost 
overtly  the  work  of  the  Government,  and  perpetrated  with  the 
sanction  of  the  authorities.  It  appears  that  this  fearful 


l6o  MILITARISM 

tragedy  is  due  to  the  encounter  between  the  popular  Mussul- 
man hatred — embittered  by  the  sufferings  of  which  they  are 
the  victim — with  the  sanguinary  mysticism  of  the  man  who 
is  now  Sultan  and  Chief  of  the  Faithful. 

Abdul  Hamid  is  not  the  frivolous,  indolent  sultan,  cruel  at 
moments  through  the  impulse  of  passing  caprice,  so  frequently 
met  with  in  Islam  history.  Unusual  as  it  may  appear  in 
a  Turk,  he  is  a  methodical  and  highly  persistent  worker  ;  a 
most  diligent  administrator  of  his  own  wealth,  who  both 
accumulates  and  spends  freely.  Always  shrewd,  and  with 
a  distinct  object  in  view,  he  supervises  and  controls  every 
detail.  He  is  a  tyrant  whose  cruelty  is  not  impulsive  but 
reflective,  arising,  not  from  passing  caprices  of  mood,  but 
from  well-considered  and  matured  determination.  This  man, 
however,  who  has  the  solid  temperament  of  a  merchant,  is 
governed  at  the  same  time  by  the  demoniacal  power  of  a 
mystical  and  atrocious  dream,  through  which  he  has  yielded 
to  the  fascination  exercised  by  great  violence  over  the 
imagination.  This  dream  is  not  exclusively  his  own.  Many 
years  ago  a  governor  of  Aleppo,  desirous  of  ingratiating  him- 
self with  the  Sultan,  sent  him  some  rare  gifts  chosen  among 
the  most  precious  Syrian  curiosities  :  otto  of  roses,  ostrich 
feathers,  exquisite  coffee.  To  this  he  wished  to  add  a  still 
more  bizarre  curiosity  :  a  dervish  (a  species  of  Mussulman 
monk,  addicted  to  mystical  practices)  of  the  name  of  Abul 
Huda,  who  lived  in  Aleppo  as  astrologer,  prophet,  miracle- 
worker,  and  preacher. 

Shortly  after  his  introduction  to  the  Court,  the  Aleppo 
mendicant  held  the  keys  of  the  Sultan's  heart ;  he  became 
more  than  the  sovereign's  friend  ;  he  was  the  master  of  his 
mind,  already  so  well  prepared  for  the  seductions  of  gigantic 
pan-Islamistic  schemes,  through  the  education  received  at 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION  l6l 

the  hands  of  the  Cadrish  dervishes,  who  had  habituated  him 
to  lengthy  meditation  on  Mussulman  greatness.  Abul  Huda 
tempted  and  mastered  that  proud  and  fantastical  man, 
metaphorically  raising  him  by  the  magic  of  his  ardent  mys- 
ticism to  immense  heights  of  imaginary  greatness,  informing 
him  that  one  of  the  greatest  kingdoms  ever  offered  to  man 
lay  at  his  feet,  that  the  infinite  multitude  of  Mahomet's 
disciples,  reunited  and  animated  by  a  pan-Islamite  propaganda, 
were  prepared  to  worship  him  as  the  head  of  Islam,  restored 
as  in  the  grand  times  of  Omar.  The  poor  astronomer  told 
the  sovereign  that  the  stars  had  destined  him  to  be  the 
greatest  of  caliphs ;  he  persuaded  him  to  use  his  treasures 
for  the  pan-Islamite  propaganda  fanned  by  the  Senussi,  of 
which  he  was  a  member,  a  society  which  tried  to  rouse  in 
Mussulmans,  all  the  world  over,  from  Sudin  to  Africa,  an 
ardent  fanaticism. 

Overcome  by  giddiness,  on  the  edge  of  the  abyss  of  great- 
ness to  which  the  magician  had  transported  him,  Abdul 
Hamid  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  the  champion  of 
pan-Islamism.  "The  bed-rock  desire  of  this  man,"  writes 
the  anonymous  author  of  an  article  in  the  Revue  des  Revues^ 
"  so  modern  in  his  business  dealings  but  who  spiritually  lives 
in  the  seventh  century,  is  that  of  reconstructing  the  Mussul- 
man Empire  as  it  was  in  the  age  of  Omar — an  empire,  that 
is  to  say,  divided  into  two  classes  :  the  believers,  who  form  the 
government  and  army,  and  the  rahai  (plebs)  who  by  manual 
work  maintain  the  former  in  luxury.  .  .  .  The  rahai  can  rise 
from  their  servile  state  by  becoming  Mussulmans,  but  if  they 

1  "  Le  Matre  et  les  serviteurs  d'Yeldiz  "  (Revue  des  Revues,  I5th  August, 
1st  September,  1897).  These  two  articles,  published  anonymously  by  a 
man  who  must  be  well  acquainted  with  Turks  and  their  ways,  are  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  Turkish  court. 

L 


1 62  MILITARISM 

attempt  to  raise  themselves  on  their  own  account  by  their 
own  effort  .  .  .  they  must  be  crushed  down  by  massacre." 

The  Armenian  massacres  appear  to  have  sprung  from  this 
political  conception,  matured;;by  Abul  Huda  and  communi- 
cated by  him  to  the  Sultan.  Abul  Huda,  indeed,  at  Trebisonde, 
personally  recruited  and  maintained  the  emissaries  charged  with 
preaching  massacre  in  the  Armenian  districts.  The  Armenians 
are  the  most  numerous  and  powerful  Christian  population  in- 
habiting Turkey,  taking  a  first  rank  as  regards  number, 
tenacity,  and  fortune.  Thus  the  victims  of  the  sanguinary 
attempt  of  the  Aleppo  beggar,  and  his  slave  and  lord,  were 
directed  against  those  who,  being  absolute  subjects,  were  more 
defenceless  than  other  Christian  populations,  such  as  the 
Greeks,  who  are  protected  by  special  international  treaties. 
The  Armenian  massacres  are  the  execution  of  a  political 
programme,  whose  object  is  brutally  to  thrust  back  into  the 
degradation  and  poverty,  from  which  they  escaped  by  patience 
and  ingenuity,  a  people  who,  in  the  midst  of  Turkish 
decadence,  grows  every  day  more  powerful,  to  cow  them  by 
the  terror  of  slaughter,  and  impoverish  them  by  systematic 
robbery.  To  effect  this  work,  the  emperor  has  summoned  as 
chief  collaborator  a  sanguinary  brute,  Nazem  Pasha — the  son 
of  a  Kurdish  brigand  and  a  Syrian  mother — who,  having  in- 
herited his  father's  instincts,  was  best  suited  to  the  post  he 
now  occupies  as  head  of  the  police.  Nazem  organized  two 
years  ago  the  terrible  massacres  in  Constantinople  that 
lasted  three  days,  during  which  he  accumulated  ;£  160,000 
worth  of  booty  :  spoils  found  in  the  ransacked  shops  and  on 
12,000  Armenian  corpses.  He  has  made  an  instrument  of 
the  police  by  which  to  receive  by  force  from  the  Armenians 
the  money  they  had  extracted  by  cunning  from  the  Turks. 
Armenian  merchants,  professional  men,  and  artisans  are 


THE  DEATH-THROES  OP  A   NATION  163 

arrested  by  the  thousand  every  year,  and  kept  in  prison  until 
the  police  have  succeeded,  by  various  means,  in  extorting 
from  them  all  they  possess  :  then  they  are  sent  back  into  the 
world  as  poor  as  when  they  entered  it. 

Fearful  convulsions  of  a  dying  society  !  Abdul  Hamid  and 
this  Aleppian  have  been  able  to  conceive  and  perpetrate 
these  horrible  things  because  they  happen  to  have  been  born 
in  the  decline  of  the  Ottoman  Empire.  They  are  the  ex- 
pression of  a  social  necessity,  the  impersonification  of  an 
epoch  in  history ;  of  the  epoch  in  which  a  nation  of  believers 
feels  that  its  power,  established  by  arms,  is  giving  way,  and 
attempts  to  rebuild  it  by  multiplying  violences  ;  a  society 
which  feels  that  European  civilization  is  threatening  it,  and 
turns  recklessly  back  to  the  past  which  gave  it  birth. 

For  this  reason  the  man  whom  Gladstone  named  "  the 
great  assassin,"  will  long  live  in  the  memory  of  the  faithful  ; 
he  will  be  regarded  by  them  as  the  last  hero  of  Islamism,  the 
worthy  descendant  of  the  great  Caliphs,  who  attempted  to 
preserve  by  the  sword  what  his  predecessors  had  conquered 
by  the  sword.  The  European  philosopher,  on  the  contrary, 
sees  in  this  tardy  saviour  of  I  slam  and  in  his  counsellor,  who 
let'loose  in  Turkish  society  the  extreme  violence  of  fanati- 
cism, two  terrible  agents  of  dissolution.  To  burn,  plunder, 
and  massacre,  all  signify  to  destroy^  and  it  is  not  by  destruc- 
tion and  ruin  that  a  decaying  nation  can  be  reconstituted. 
As  the  writer  in  the  Revue  des  Revues  says  :  "  Such  a  regime 
necessarily  leads  to  anarchy.  The  Oriental  Empire  might  or 
might  not  be  a  harmonious  combination  of  Mussulmans  and 
Christians.  The  oppression  of  the  Christians  re-kindled  the 
religious  war,  the  death  of  300,000  Armenians  ruined 
commerce,  industry,  and  agriculture.  The  official  sanction 
of  theft,  espionage,  and  the  sale  of  Government  appointments, 


164  MILITARISM 

has  broken  all  social  bonds  between  individuals.  All  the 
conditions  necessary  to  the  maintainance  of  a  state  have 
ceased  to  exist.  Nothing  remains  but  armies  ;  when  these 
are  crushed  by  a  Christian  power,  Turkey  must  perish.  If 
they  continue  to  conquer,  the  present  anarchy  will  increase." 
This  means  that  Turkey  will  continue  to  live  in  the  midst 
of  fanatic  convulsions  and  violence,  of  massacres  and  atrocious 
hatreds  ;  wealth  will  diminish,  administrative  disorder  will 
increase  ;  the  small  remains  of  Christian  honesty  will  perish 
with  all  that  survives  of  Mussulman  good  sense  ;  the  earth 
will  daily  grow  more  niggardly,  and  men  will  be  decimated 
by  natural  and  social  scourges  :  famines,  epidemics,  earth- 
quakes, chronic  misery,  wars,  murder,  rapine,  madness,  and 
the  spread  of  unnatural  vices.  No  human  power  will  be  able 
to  stay  this  inevitable  chastisement,  and  then  the  Sultan's 
conduct  will  be  revealed  in  all  its  senseless  folly.  He  tries, 
by  multiplying  outrages,  to  re-animate  the  worn-out  vanity  of 
the  Mussulman  empire  ;  but  in  vain.  The  sacrifice  of  human 
blood  cannot  give  life  to  dead  things,  as  certain  barbarous 
superstitions  suppose  ;  the  Turkish  crisis,  born  of  the  funda- 
mental vices  inherent  in  Mussulman  and  ancient  societies, 
will  end  in  the  extermination  of  a  people.  When  the  Turks 
shall  have  succeeded  in  extirpating  the  Armenians,  will  they 
be  freed  from  the  financial  oppression  of  a  more  ingenious 
and  industrious  people,  will  they  be  able  to  acquire  and  pre- 
serve a  social  superiority  which  is  beyond  them  ?  The  place 
of  the  Armenians  will  be  filled  by  the  Greeks ;  the  Greeks 
exterminated,  the  Germans  and  English  will  step  in,  because 
wherever  in  a  society  that  has  few  productive  investments 
there  exists  a  class  of  rich  merchants  beside  a  parasitical  and 
indolent  bureaucracy,  the  former  will  always  rule  and  exploit 
the  latter. 


THE  DEATH-THROES   OF  A   NATION 


VIII 

"  Quam  brevis  est  risus  quam  longa  est  lacryma  mundi  !" 
Thus  wrote  an  English  copyist  of  the  fourteenth  century  on 
a  manuscript  of  the  Magna  Charta,  preserved  in  the  National 
Library  of  Turin.     The  Turkish  crisis,  which  originated  in 
the  stagnation  of  capital,  the  decay  of  agriculture,  and  de- 
population,  is  similar   in   its  general   features   to  all     crisis 
that  periodically  tormented  and  ruined  ancient  societies,  and 
especially  those  founded  on  hatred  of  work,  simplicity  of  life, 
and  ignorance.     The  Turkish  crisis  is  terrible  because  that, 
thanks  to  the  almost  universal  state  of  peace,  it  may  last 
a  very  long  time  ;  it  may  resemble  a  slow  disease,  which 
does   not   kill   its   victim,   but   allows  him   to   drag   out    a 
miserable  and  stunted  existence.    If  the  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century  were  an  era  of  great  and  frequent  wars,  the  Turkish 
Empire  might  be  destroyed  by  some   younger  state  whose 
Government  was  more  civilized.     This  would  possess  itself 
of  the  Sultan's  treasures  and  the  wealth  of  the  mosques  in 
order  to  repair  streets  and  bridges,  to  improve  the  executive  ; 
in  short,  to  give  fresh  life  to  the  dying  state.     Asia  Minor, 
indeed  all  the  Turkish  territories,  suffer  from  the  lack  of  war 
and  the  absence  of  conquering  nations.     They  are  perishing 
because  peace  abandons  them  to  the  gradual  aggravation  of 
the  ill-being,   from  which  they  suffer,  without  any  hope  of 
a  probable  recovery.     Left  to  its  own  devices,  there  is  no 
future  for  this  nation  ;  the   Christians  will   not  destroy  the 
Mussulmans,  nor  the  Mussulmans  the  Christians,  and  so  long 
as   the   Mussulmans  are  in  command,  Turkey  will  remain 
what  it  is  :  poor,  simple,  idle,  conservative  in  habits,  the  prey 
of  usurers  and  powerful  pashas.     European  civilization  will 


1 66  MILITARISM 

be  unable  to  penetrate.  Only  a  war,  by  abolishing  the 
oligarchy  now  in  power  and  substituting  another  more 
desirous  of  progress  and  civilization,  could  remedy  the 

v7  present  evils  and  rehabilitate  that  portion  of  Asia  in  the 
history  of  the  world. 

We  shall  see,  in  the  following  pages,  that  frequent  wars 
would  be  a  great  impediment  to  the  progress  of  European 

v  civilization.  Turkey,  on  the  contrary,  is  slowly  decaying 
owing  to  the  long  peace  which  now  reigns  over  such  a  large 
portion  of  the  world.  This  fact  demonstrates  the  main 
difference  that  exists  between  Christian  and  Mussulman 
civilization,  which  is  at  the  same  time  the  essential  difference 
between  the  modern  and  the  ancient.  Without  war,  ancient 
civilization  could  not  have  existed,  the  Iliad  would  never 
have  been  composed,  Plato  would  not  have  philosophized, 

the  Roman  jurisconsults  would  not  have  elaborated  the  law. 
<$-'          \ 


We  shall  sec  that  modern  society,  on  the  other  hand,  would 
be  destroyed  by  war. 


NAPOLEON    AND    HIS    WARS 


CHAPTER  VI 

NAPOLEON  AND  HIS   WARS 


ON  the  threshold  of  this  century  stands  a  figure  of  colossal 
grandeur :  Napoleon.  He  is  certainly  the  man  of  our  age 
about  whom  most  has  been  said,  written,  and  investigated. 
Many  believe  him  to  be  the  greatest  personage  of  the  century, 
and  attribute  to  him  the  miracle  of  having  created  much  out 
of  nothing — the  victories  of  his  armies,  his  own  extraordinary 
career,  the  glory,  power,  and  wealth  of  France,  the  end  of  the 
feudal  system,  the  inauguration  of  a  liberal  movement  in 
every  European  state. 

Napoleon  is  certainly  the  greatest  problem  which  presents 
itself  to  him  who  would  study  the  causes  and  functions  of 
war  in  this  century.  Was  he  in  reality  the  greatest  man  of 
our  times,  the  last  of  the  great  ?  Does  his  career  resemble 
those  of  the  warriors  of  old  ?  and  was  he,  by  the  power  of  his 
works,  an  Alexander  or  a  Caesar  ? 

None  would  deny  that  he  was  a  man  of  genius ;  but  that 
his  importance  raised  him  to  the  rank  of  a  demi-god,  I  do  not 
believe.  He  possessed  great  gifts  and  energy ;  but  chance 
led  him  to  perform  a  vaster  work  than  that  which  'he  had 
consciously  intended,  nor  were  there  wanting  in  his  character 
many  weaknesses  and  a  terrible  lack  of  balance.  He  resembles 
too  closely  a  great  barbarian,  Attila,  to  be  the  greatest  man 


1 70  MILITARISM 

of  the  nineteenth  century.  In  fact,  between  the  two  warriors, 
Attila,  as  described  by  the  historian  Priscus,  who  saw  and 
spoke  to  him,  and  Napoleon,  described  by  the  many  who 
knew  him,  there  is  a  curious  resemblance  ;  that  is  to  say,  they 
resemble  each  other  in  their  personal  character  as  men,  not 
for  the  part  they  took  in  history.  They  are  alike  because  the 
fundamental  trait  in  their  characters  is  the  same  :  selfish  and 
unmeasured  pride,  an  inextinguishable  thirst  for  eminence, 
an  insatiable  desire  for  superiority  and  dominion  over  their 
fellow-men.  As  the  central  nerve  branches  out  in  a  leaf  and 
sustains  the  whole  structure  connecting  the  various  parts,  so 
in  every  human  character  one  single  sentiment  connects 
various  qualities,  and  stamps  the  man.  Pride  was  the  back- 
bone of  these  two  characters.  Thus  these  two  leaves  which 
grew  on  the  tree  of  life  at  such  very  different  epochs,  and 
under  conditions  so  diverse,  almost  seem  to  belong  to  the 
same  year.  Wrathfulness  was  common  to  them  both,  violence 
and  insolence  of  manner,  as  well  as  the  desire  to  domineer 
over  other  men,  more  especially  by  ill-treating  them,  some- 
times with  genuine  anger,  sometimes  with  feigned.  Napoleon's 
rages  were  of  terrific  violence.  On  one  occasion,  for  instance, 
he  kicked  the  Senator  Volney  in  the  abdomen  ;  at  Campo- 
formio,  impatient  of  the  delay  of  an  Austrian  ambassador,  he 
smashed  a  porcelain  vase  of  great  value.  When  in  anger,  he 
behaved  with  extraordinary  brutality  towards  dependants, 
whether  simple  servants,  clerks,  or  the  highest  functionaries, 
and  at  such  moments  he  was  wont  to  give  such  extravagant 
commands,  that  his  entourage  were  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to 
induce  him  to  withdraw  them.  This  irascibility — in  part 
assumed — he  preserved  even  in  his  relations  with  the  punc- 
tilious diplomatic  world.  During  a  treaty  at  Dresden,  in 
1813,  when  his  power  was  already  on  the  decline,  he  brutally 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS    WARS  i;i 

asked  Metternich  how  much  he  had  been  paid  by  England 
to  play  his  part.  At  Wilna,  in  1812,  whilst  in  conversation 
with  the  Russian  envoy,  BelatchefT,  he  abused  Alexander's 
counsellors,  calling  them  the  worst  names  he  could  think  of— 
vauriens,  debauchees,  and  viles  personnes. 

Now  it  is  curious  to  read  in  Priscus,  that  Attila's  diplomacy 
was  equal  to  Napoleon's  for  ceremony.  The  embassy  to 
which  Priscus  belonged  wished  to  negotiate  with  Attila  about 
the  Hun  deserters,  whom  the  emperor  declared  to  have  all 
returned,  but  of  whom  Attila  maintained  that  many  still 
remained  in  the  Roman's  power,  which  matter  seemed  to 
highly  irritate  the  Hun  king,  to  judge  from  the  manner  in 
which  he  received  the  ambassadors.  When  these  had  saluted 
him  with  the  greatest  deference,  "May  all  that  the  Romans 
wish  me,  befall  them,"  answered  Attila,  and  turning  to  Vigilus, 
the  head  of  the  embassy,  he  called  him  an  impudent  fool, 
asked  him  how  he  had  dared  come  before  him,  knowing  as  he 
did  what  the  terms  of  the  peace  were  when  he  accompanied 
the  preceding  embassy  from  Anatolius ;  and  added  that  no 
other  ambassador  would  have  dared  to  make  his  appearance 
before  all  the  hostages  had  been  returned.  Vigilus  attempted 
to  make  some  reply  ;  but  Attila,  growing  more  and  more 
enraged,  loaded  him  with  abuse,  and,  howling  with  fury,  told 
him  that  it  was  only  thanks  to  his  quality  of  ambassador  that 
he  refrained  from  crucifying  him. 

As  anger  and  violence  were  common  to  the  two  men,  so 
also  were  obstinacy  of  ideas,  insufferance  of  advice,  the  desire 
to  be  surrounded  by  mental  dwarfs  reaching  no  higher  than 
their  knees.  Priscus  recounts  a  conversation  held  with  the 
members  of  another  embassy,  sent  this  time  by  the  western 
emperor,  who  for  a  long  while  had  tried  to  persuade  Attila  to 
renounce  certain  of  his  absurd  pretensions.  He  asked  them 


1 72  MILITARISM 

whether  they  had  any  hope  of  success.  "  No,"  they  answered  ; 
"it  is  impossible  to  make  Attila  change  his  mind."  And 
Romolo,  one  of  the  ambassadors,  added,  "  Fortune  has  given 
him  a  great  empire,  and  he  has  become  so  proud  in  con- 
sequence that  good  counsel  no  longer  has  any  influence  with 
him,  so  that  he  only  believes  his  own  caprices  to  be  right." 

Fourteen  centuries  later  Chaptel  repeated  nearly  the  same 
words,  in  speaking  of  the  Attila  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
"  From  the  moment  that  he  had  formed  some  idea  on  political 
matters,  whether  right  or  wrong,  Napoleon  consulted  no  one. 
He  wished  for  servants,  not  counsellors."  And  Mollien 
added,  "Napoleon  considered  himself  as  a  superior  being, 
created  to  govern  and  direct  every  one  according  to  his 
own  ideas." 

This  similitude  can  be  observed  also  in  small  details  which 
might  appear  valueless  to  too  serious  a  psychologist.  One  of 
the  ways  in  which  proud  spirits  seek  to  satisfy  their  ambition, 
is  by  despising  all  that  is  prized  by  others.  By  remaining 
unmoved  by  what  is  generally  sought  after,  a  man  displays 
an  essential  difference  from  his  fellows ;  he  flatters  himself 
that  he  shows  himself  superior  to  the  common  horde.  This 
is  the  reason  why  the  nobility  always  affects  contempt  and 
scepticism,  and  consider  it  vulgar  to  enthuse  too  much,  even 
over  anything  well  meriting  enthusiasm. 

Napoleon,  partly  by  nature  and  partly  by  affectation,  was 
a  past-master  in  the  art  of  magnifying  himself  in  the  public 
eye  by  paying  no  attention  to  what  most  men  loved.  His 
face  always  appeared  absorbed  and  impassive  to  the  public  ; 
it  was  difficult  to  amuse  or  distract  him  at  theatres ;  he  was 
bored  and  yawned  at  court  fetes,  and  at  Fontainebleau  he 
appeared  abstracted,  a  colossal  being  whose  head  reached  the 
clouds,  and  whose  thoughts  were  intent  on  other  things  far 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS    WARS  173 

removed  from  the  little  men  who  grovelled  at  his  feet.  He 
spoke  little,  as  though  fearing  to  appear  too  familiar.  On  one 
occasion  at  Saint  Cloud,  in  the  midst  of  a  distinguished  circle 
of  gentlemen,  Varnagen  heard  him  repeat  some  twenty  times 
this  single  phrase  :  "  It  is  hot."  So  that  the  court  was  "silent 
and  cold,"  as  Madame  de  Renuisat  put  it ;  adding  picturesquely, 
"  Both  intentionally  and  by  inclination  he  never  relaxes  from 
his  royalty." 

Attila  also  was  of  a  nature  that  "  never  relaxed  from  his 
royalty,"  not  even  in  the  midst  of  the  barbaric  freedom  of 
court  banquets.  Priscus  recounts  a  solemn  feast  which  the 
ambassadors  attended.  After  the  dinner  two  bards  sung  war- 
songs,  which  moved  the  auditors  to  tears  ;  then  a  fool  cracked 
a  lot  of  jokes  and  comicalities  which  made  every  one  laugh  ;  a 
Moor  made  a  long  discourse  in  a  mixture  of  Latin,  Gothic, 
and  Hun.  But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  merriment  "Attila 
alone,"  writes  Priscus,  "  preserved  always  the  same  counte- 
nance. He  remained  grave  and  immovable  ;  he  did  and  said 
nothing  to  reveal  the  slightest  desire  to  laugh  or  amuse 
himself.  Only  when  they  brought  him  his  youngest  son, 
Irnach,  did  he  look  at  him  affectionately  and  pat  his 
cheek." 

Again,  in  speaking  of  this  official  banquet,  Priscus  gives 
another  curious  particular :  that  Attila  distinguished  himself 
from  the  others,  not  only  by  the  gravity  of  his  manner,  but 
also  by  his  sobriety  in  eating  and  simplicity  in  dress. 
Amongst  all  the  court  magnates,  he  was  the  most  moderate 
eater,  and  donned  the  simplest  attire.  "  He  had  prepared  for 
the  barbarians  and  for  us,"  writes  Priscus,  "all  manner  of 
viands,  which  were  served  on  silver  platters,  but  Attila  ate 
nothing  but  meat  on  a  wooden  dish.  He  displayed  great 
simplicity  in  everything.  Whilst  the  guests  drank  out  of  gold 


174  MILITARISM 

and  silver  bowls,  Attila  used  a  wooden  mug  ;  his  clothes 
were  simplicity  itself,  and  distinguishable  from  those  of  the 
other  barbarians  by  being  of  one  colour  and  without  orna- 
ments ;  his  sword,  his  shoe-laces,  the  reins  of  his  horse, 
nothing  about  him  was  adorned  with  gold  and  precious 
jewels  as  in  the  other  Scythians. 

Even  in  this  simplicity  of  taste  Napoleon  and  Attila  were 
alike.  Napoleon  always  dressed  unobtrusively,  like  a  fairly 
well-to-do  officer,  without  displaying  any  of  those  showy 
ornaments  which  amongst  soldiers  are  still  in  favour.  It  is  a 
known  fact,  moreover,  that  he  was  wont  to  chaff  Murat  on  his 
pompous  clothing,  on  his  plumes,  decorations,  damascened 
weapons,  for  his  love  6*f  glitter. 


II 

Simplicity  and  pride  :  an  apparent  contradiction  by  which 
we  must  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  deceived.  This  external 
modesty  is  only  the  surpreme  form  of  pride,  which,  in  its 
most  intense  degree,  finds  no  other  satisfaction  than  in  the 
contempt  of  the  outward  attributes  of  power.  Attila  and 
Napoleon  despised  display  because  they  believed  themselves 
to  be,  and  wished  to  appear,  so  infinitely  superior  to  the  rest 
of  humanity  as  to  have  no  need  to  excite  admiration  and 
respect  by  all  those  material  vanities  whereby  mediocre  men 
attract  attention. 

Thus  Napoleon's  chief  characteristic  was  pride  :  the  pride 
of  an  Oriental  sovereign,  of  an  Assyrian  king.  But  whence 
did  Napoleon  derive  this  pride,  and  how  did  he  nourish  it  ? 
In  part  it  was  certainly  innate,  A  military  conqueror  is 
always  a  man  born  to  command  others.  We  already  find 
germs  of  this  pride  in  the  young  officer  who,  poor  and  obscure, 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS    WARS  175 

dreamed  of  offering  his  services  to  the  Sultan  to  undertake 
great  Oriental  wars  ;  the  vague  romanticism  of  an  active  and 
ambitious  spirit,  in  which  the  insatiable  avidity  for  greatness 
that  was  to  torment  him  all  his  life,  was  fermenting.  But 
only  the  first  grandiose  and  unexpected  successes  of  his  Italian 
campaign  gave  form  to  these  vague,  ambitious  dreams  ;  con- 
verting these  youthful  fantasies  of  future  might  into  a  virile 
pride,  conscious  and  unlimited.  Napoleon  himself  confessed 
that  the  flame  of  his  ambition  burst  forth  after  the  battle  of 
Lodi ;  that  before  then  he  only  thought  of  becoming  a 
fortunate  soldier.  After  it,  "  the  idea  struck  me,"  he  himself 
writes,  "  that  I  might  become  an  important  actor  on  the  scene 
of  politics." 

This  psychological  phenomenon,  moreover,  is  so  simple  that 
it  does  not  demand  elaborate  explanations.  None  of  the 
men  whom  fortune  has  raised  to  the  summit  of  power  have 
ever  begun  their  career  without  entertaining  wild  shapeless 
hopes ;  none  of  them  have  been  gifted  from  the  beginning 
with  the  superhuman  lucidity  of  foresight  and  self-confidence 
necessary  to  specify  exactly  the  degree  of  greatness  to  which 
they  would  attain,  nor  the  exact  date  for  the  said  elevation. 
The  youth  destined  to  become  the  boldest  and  most  self-con- 
fident of  men  is  easily  discouraged  ;  he  vaguely  mistrusts 
himself,  as  can  be  observed  in  the  indecision  of  his  ambitious 
dreams.  Notwithstanding  his  extraordinary  latent  force  of 
character,  Napoleon,  still  young  and  obscure,  had  not  the 
courage  to  believe  what  turned  out  to  be  the  truth  :  that  he 
should  become  the  general  of  a  conquering  army  at  twenty- 
six  years  of  age  ;  he  scarcely  ever  dared  to  dream  that  one 
day  he  would  be  a  great  Oriental  warrior,  perhaps  the  head 
of  one  of  those  distant  empires.  Maturity  of  character 
cannot  be  measured  by  the  extent  but  by  the  precision  of  its 


176  MILITARISM 

ambition,  hence  the  young  officer  who  dreamed  of  distant 
glory  whilst  walking  the  streets  of  Paris  had  to  experience 
victory  before  his  ambition  could  conceive  the  plan  of  making 
himself  master  of  Europe  and  crowning  himself  emperor. 

Victory  was  necessary  to  give  shape  to  the  ambition  of  one 
who  was  already  inclined  to  consider  himself  made  of  other 
clay  than  that  of  the  common  mass  of  humanity,  and  well- 
established  good  luck  to  definitely  persuade  him  that  he 
was  a  unique  man,  destined  to  succeed  in  everything,  and  to 
rule  mankind.  Men  are  so  easily  overcome  by  the  intoxica- 
tion of  power  :  how  could  this  man,  so  proud  by  nature, 
resist,  when  raised  to  immense  Himalayan  heights,  from 
which  he  could  see  half  the  world  at  his  feet  and  nothing  but 
the  heavens  above  his  head  ?  But  if  war  roused  Napoleon's 
innate  pride  into  madness,  pride  rendered  his  passion  for  war 
still  acuter.  The  pleasures  of  pride  are  perfidious,  the  more 
we  drink  the  thirstier  we  grow,  till  we  can  drown  even  our 
reason  without  finding  satisfaction.  As  the  mental  and 
physical  vigour  of  the  general  who  had  fought  the  Italian 
campaign  declined,  Napoleon's  desire  to  re-taste  the  violent 
emotions  of  victory,  to  re-animate  in  himself  the  inebriating 
consciousness  of  his  superiority,  increased — little  matters  it 
whether  this  be  in  part  illusive — the  immensity  of  his 
power,  which  had  no  other  limit  than  in  his  own  will  and  in 
the  materiality  of  things,  not  in  the  will  of  other  men. 


. 


Ill 

But  as  Napoleon's  faculties  got  more  and  more  absorbed 
by  war,  and  as  his  pride  by  degrees  increased,  we  observe  a 
transformation  in  his  intelligence,  wherein  lies  one  of  the 
most  curious  phenomenon  in  his  history. 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS    WARS  I  77 

Every  man  who  lives  in  society,  and  has  friendly  or  hostile 
relations  with  his  fellows,  should  be  capable  of  understanding 
external  life,  of  comprehending  men  and  the  world  in  which 
he  lives  and  moves;  more  particularly  if  his  relations  with 
others  are  close  or  difficult.  Now  the  chief  phenomenon  in 
the  moral  history  of  Napoleon,  that  to  which  the  principal 
events  of  his  life  are  attributable,  and  on  which  the  political 
history  of  Europe  for  fifteen  years  depended,  is  this  :  that  by 
degrees,  as  he  advanced  in  years,  the  work  of  war  absorbed 
and  exhausted  him  ;  as  his  pride  fed  by  victory  grew  more 
extravagant,  he  progressively  lost  count  of  the  realities  of  life,  i/ 
until  in  the  end  he  became  involved  in  a  world  of  imaginary 
chimeras. 

Napoleon's  intelligence  possessed  from  the  beginning  a 
great  quality  and  a  great  defect  :  extraordinarily  active  as  it 
was,  capable  of  immense  efforts  of  prodigious  variety,  it  was 
much  less  capable  of  perseverance  and  continuous  effort. 
This  explains  why  he  was  such  a  great  general  and  such  a 
poor  politician.  Taine  has  splendidly  analyzed  the  prime 
quality  of  Napoleon's  intellect :  the  unmeasured  ensemble  of 
such  diverse  things  which  he  could  conceive  in  a  single 
thought ;  the  lucidity  with  which  he  perceived  the  minutest 
details  in  a  moment.  This  quality  made  him  a  great  leader 
in  his  early  years,  when  his  mind  was  still  fresh,  because  of 
his  facility  to  realize,  with  precision  of  detail,  those  minutiae 
which  a  general,  directing  the  operations  of  a  campaign, '' 
has  to  keep  in  mind.  But  he  possessed  in  a  very  minor 
degree  the  genius  for  slow  synthetic  creation  ;  the  capacity 
to  understand  a  complex  matter  in  its  aggregate  by  studying 
its  particulars  one  by  one,  by  a  persevering  and  patient  effort 
of  mind  to  reconstruct  the  whole  body,  so  to  speak,  from  its 
separate  parts.  Thus,  for  instance,  although  he  had  so  long 

M 


1 78  MILITARISM 

inhabited  Europe,  known  so  many  people  and  dealt  with  so 
many  states,  Napoleon  never  succeeded  in  forming  a  precise 
idea  of  the  social  conditions  of  European  countries,  in 
attaining  a  deeper  understanding  of  the  various  European 
nations,  of  their  latent  forces,  of  what  was  maturing  in  each. 
This  can  be  clearly  perceived  from  the  triviality  and  superfici- 
ality of  many  of  his  expressed  political  opinions,  and  which  for 
the  most  part  are  mere  journalist's  phrases,  paradoxical 
crackers  let  off  by  a  man  who  always  desired  to  astound 
his  fellows,  even  when  enunciating  a  political  judgment ;  such 
as  when  he  said,  "  Constantinople  is  the  capital  of  the  world," 
and  "  Europe  in  a  century  will  be  all  republican  or  all 
Cossack."  Napoleon  never  really  foresaw  what  would  follow 
after  his  death  :  the  end  of  the  chronic  wars  of  invasion  ;  the 
application  of  the  energies  formerly  expended  on  war  to 
home  interests,  and  the  development  of  trade  ;  in  short,  the 
apotheosis  of  the  bourgeoisie.  He  believed — and  the  most 
curious  proof  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  conversation  he 
held  with  Lord  Ebrington  in  the  Island  of  Elba — that  nations 
would  continue  to  wage  war  with  one  another  through 
ambition  for  rule  and  rivalry  for  glory.  For  this  reason  he 
aimed  so  earnestly  at  creating  a  new  nobility  in  France, 
founded  on  the  remains  of  the  old,  because  "  I  felt,"  he  says, 
"  that  France  was  in  need  of  an  aristocracy."  He  felt  this 
great  need — so  lacking  was  he  in  the  historical  sense — on  the 
eve  of  an  era  when  the  aristocracy,  as  such,  was  to  lose  in  all 
Europe,  but  more  particularly  in  France,  all  social  importance. 
This  man  who  had  a  lynx's  eye  in  war,  was  blind  in  social 
life. 

Napoleon's  intellect,  in  short,  was  of  the  flashy  order,  not  of 
those  which  cast  a  steady  and  continuous  light  on  everything. 
His  intellect  was  rather  intuitive  than  reflective  ;  his  mind 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS    WARS  179 

understood  in   a    flash   or  misunderstood,    penetrating   the 
truth  all  at  once  or  understanding  nothing  at  all. 

Now  this  is  the  intellectual  temperament  which  renders 
difficult  the  maintenance  of  that  just  equilibrium  between 
ideas  and  external  truth,  in  which  reason  consists.  It  is  true 
that  the  intellectual  energy  and  will  of  Napoleon  was  such 
that,  despite  this  defect,  he  might  have  reached  a  deep  com- 
prehension of  life,  repressing  by  an  energetic  effort  of  will  the 
caprices  of  his  imagination,  disciplining  his  natural  impulsive- 
ness. He  would  then  have  become  one  of  that  class  of  great 
thinkers  and  artists  to  whom  Shakespeare  and  Hegel  belong. 
But  for  this  he  would  have  needed  the  peace  of  a  quiet  life, 
the  long  and  severe  discipline  of  methodical  work.  War,  on 
the  contrary,  by  distracting  attention  with  a  thousand 
hurried  cares,  gradually  increased  the  fundamental  defect  in 
his  character.  War  acted  on  Napoleon's  intelligence  in  much 
the  same  way  as  journalism  acts  on  that  of  many  writers :  it 
exercised  many  of  his  qualities  up  to  a  certain  point — his 
rapidity  of  ideas,  for  instance,  the  precision  in  his  perception 
of  details,  his  withstanding  intense  work,  his  capacity  for 
great  efforts ;  but  it  tired  him  out  at  the  same  time,  it 
diminished  his  capacity  for  self-concentration,  and  for  labour 
which  demands  deliberation.  Intuition  is  the  essence  of 
genius  ;  but  in  some  it  remains  in  its  native  rawness,  while 
others  refine  it  by  education  and  discipline.  Such  is  the 
genius  of  Darwin,  Goethe,  Stein,  and  Julius  Caesar,  to  whom 
we  owe  great  and  lasting  creations,  who,  having  received  the 
intuitive  revelation  of  genius,  did  not  give  their  ideas  to  the 
world  in  their  first  crudity,  but  refined  and  tempered  them. 
But  for  this  to  be  possible  one  must  be  capable  of  long  brood- 
ing over  an  idea  without  growing  weary,  nourishing  it  like  a 
foetus,  with  one's  own  blood— a  tremendous  effort,  to  which 


l8o  MILITARISM 

many  keenly  intuitive  intellects  succumb.  This  faculty  can 
only  be  acquired  by  sustained  effort  in  view  of  one  single 
object.  Napoleon  was  a  genius  by  nature,  so  intuitive  as  to 
be  absolutely  impulsive  ;  how  could  war  discipline  this  extra- 
ordinary being?  War,  by  diverting  the  mind  to  a  thousand 
different  objects  which  demand  rapid  solutions,  could  only 
increase  this  defect,  and  thus  could  only  leave  the  most 
powerful  of  geniuses  in  a  crude  state,  rather  than  facilitate 
the  refinement  due  to  slow  reflection.  Indeed  Napoleon,  in 
the  course  of  his  agitated  career,  always  occupied  with 
transitory  details,  lost  this  capacity  for  synthetic  creation  by 
/  continuous  effort,  which  alone  creates  the  enduring  in  politics 
and  art.  He  acquired  the  habit  of  rapid  conception.  Even  in 
his  political  relations  we  see  the  man  of  the  camp,  satisfied 
with  resolving  every  difficulty  in  a  superficial  way,  content 
with  the  hand-to-mouth  policy,  consequently  he  became  every 
day  more  unfit  to  realize  the  ultimate  consequence  of  things, 
and  therefore  to  act  coherently.  From  this  arose  the 
\  entanglement  of  his  politics  in  ever  more  inextricable  knots, 
in  which  at  last  he  found  himself  entangled. 


IV 

This  intellectual  degeneration,  exercised  by  war,  was 
intensified  in  Napoleon  by  the  increase  of  his  pride.  Pride 
isolates,  removes  from  reality,  concentrates  the  mind  on  con- 
templation, not  of  the  outside  world,  but  of  its  own  greatness. 
What  is  experience  to  a  proud  man  in  comparison  with  his 
own  ideas  or  plans  ?  By  degrees,  as  his  pride  grew  almost  to 
a  belief  in  his  own  infallibility,  Napoleon  lost  all  count  of 
reality ;  he  lost  himself — and  this  was  his  punishment — in  a 
gigantic  hallucination  in  a  world  of  imaginary  phantoms  in 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  l8l 

which  great  creative  ideas  merge  with  the  phantasies  of  a 
madman  and  the  ingenuousness  of  a  child. 

The  first  and  second  facts  were  aggravated  by  another  malig- 
nant influence,  exerted  by  a  life  of  war :  intellectual  fatigue 
and  exhaustion.  War  is  always  accompanied  by  violent 
emotions — anxiety,  impatience,  triumphant  excitement.  Now 
all  things  which  cannot  be  accomplished  with  a  serene  mind, 
but  demand  tension  of  thought  and  agitation,  are  those 
which  weary  the  most.  Moreover,  war  is  a  species  of  work 
which  does  not  allow  of  methodical  application ;  during  a 
campaign,  those  moments  in  which  a  general  can  give  him- 
self up  to  diversion,  are  capriciously  alternated  with  moments 
of  intense  mental  strain.  Work  is  more  fatiguing  when  it 
does  not  demand  methodical  effort.  Now,  variety  of  mental 
efforts  augment  fatigue.  This  renders  war  one  of  the  most 
exhausting  of  human  occupations,  to  which  even  the  strongest 
succumb.  Moltke  did  not  exhaust  himself,  because,  in  the 
^hole  course  of  his  career,  he  only  fought  in  three  wars,  each 
of  few  months'  duration,  with  long  rests  between  the  first 
and  second,  which  he  passed  in  the  quiet  and  methodical 
occupations  of  a  military  bureaucracy,  Napoleon  insisted 
on  waging  almost  uninterrupted  war  for  twenty  years,  opening 
a  fresh  campaign  as  soon  as  a  preceding  one  was  completed  ; 
and  he  wore  himself  out  in  the  effort. 

The  psychology  of  Napoleon  in  his  later  years  is  that  of  a 
wearied  and  exhausted  man.  Not  only  did  he  become  more 
and  more  intuitive,  but  his  intuition  grew  constantly  more 
analytical,  whilst  the  ensemble  of  things  grew  more  remote 
and  his  mind  became  more  subjective  and  less  controlled 
by  the  conscious  observation  of  exterior  life.  In  order  to 
understand  external  life,  observation  and  criticism  are  neces- 
sary ;  a  fatigue  for  which  Napoleon  grew  more  unfit  as  years 


1 82  MILITARISM 

passed  by,  and  he  was  prostrated  by  mental  fatigue.  His 
attention  was  less  capable  of  restraining  his  formidable  ima- 
gination ;  extravagant  and  chimerical  ideas  hustled  excellent 
ones  in  his  brain.  Nor  could  he  separate  them ;  his  conduct 
became  incoherent,  almost  like  that  of  an  hysterical  subject. 

The  Russian  Campaign  is  the  most  terrible  proof  of  the 
state  of  mind  reached  by  Napoleon  owing  to  the  concurrence 
of  these  three  causes  induced  by  war :  growth  of  pride,  the 
disintegration  of  the  synthetic  faculties,  and  brain  exhaustion. 
At  last  nothing  remained  to  him  but  the  capacity  for  details  ; 
every  now  and  then  he  organized  a  manoeuvre,  directed  a 
battle,    ordered   a  march   with   his    usual  ability ;   but    the 
ensemble  of  the  conditions  among  which  he  lived  escaped 
him.     He  was  blind  to  what  his  generals  had  seen  from  the 
outset :  that  the  Russians  aimed  at  enticing  the  French  army 
into   the  interior   in   order  to  wear  it  out   by  slow  stages. 
Indeed  his  marshal's  opposition  to  the  advance  was  only  a 
fresh  motive  to  Napoleon  to  proceed.     At  times  he  agreed 
with  his  generals  that  this  was  the  plan  of  the  Russians  ;  and 
yet  he  acted  as  though  his  real  conviction  lay  in  the  contrary 
direction,  as  though  some  force  drew  him  towards  the  abyss. 
At  Wilna  he  already  began  to  realize  the  danger  he  would 
encounter  through  the  expedition  he  had  commenced  ;  but  he 
declined   the   proffered   peace   because,  after   so  many  pre- 
paratives, his  prestige  would  be  diminished  by  a  war  that 
finished   in  anything  but  a  great  victory.     At  Vitebsk  he 
resolved  to  stop  and  pass  the  winter  ;  then  he  thought  that 
Europe   would   consider   that   he    hesitated,  so  he  was  re- 
animated by  the  desire  to  end  the  whole  affair  with  a  master- 
stroke.    He  asked  the  counsel  of  his  generals,  who  advised 
him  not  to  advance.      At  this  he  grew  angry,  abused  them, 
and  ordered  an  advance  to  Smolensk.     During  the  battle  of 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  183 

Borodino  his  generals  observed  with  terror  "  le  calme  sourde, 
la  dougeur  molle  sans  activite"  which  he  displayed.  At 
Smolensk,  in  a  moment  in  which  he  foresaw  his  imminent 
ruin,  he  offered  the  Czar  that  peace  which  he  refused  at 
Wilna,  but  the  Czar  made  no  answer.  Irritated  by  this 
insult,  he  desired  boldly  to  advance,  and  ordered  the  march 
to  Moscow.  The  Russian  general,  Kutusoff,  admits  that 
Russia  would  have  found  herself  in  a  difficulty  had  Napoleon 
followed  his  contemplated  plan,  to  winter  at  Smolensk  and 
await  the  spring  to  recommence  hostilities  ;  but  Bonaparte  was 
still  the  general  of  Italy,  used  to  rapid  campaigns  with  a 
succession  of  repeated  assaults  and  great  battles  ;  and  he 
Bought  in  the  vast  plains  of  Northern  Europe  the  booty  he 
had  collected  wholesale  in  the  valley  of  the  Po.  A  vain 
illusion,  which  urged  him  on  to  Moscow  in  the  pursuit  of 
an  ever-vanishing  enemy!  At  Moscow,  when  his  generals 
informed  him  that  the  army  was  diminishing  every  day,  he  set 
himself  obstinately  to  prove  that  it  was  not  true ;  that  fact 
pointed  to  the  contrary.  After  the  Moscow  conflagration,  in 
the  midst  of  the  first  symptoms  of  his  army's  dissolution, 
when  ruin  was  suspended  above  his  head,  Napoleon  lost  his 
time  in  inertia  and  puerile  etiquette  ;  he  passed  his  evenings 
finishing  the  regulations  for  the  Comtdie  Fran^aise ;  he  dis- 
cussed literature  with  his  intimates  ;  he  ordered  the  great  cross 
to  be  removed  from  the  tower  of  Ivan  Velihi  in  the  Kremlin 
and  transported  to  Paris.  This  man,  so  sober  formerly, 
wasted  his  time  at  table,  as  though  seeking  to  stupefy  himself 
with  drink  ;  though  previously  so  active,  he  now  passed  long 
hours  in  bed  brooding  over  some  book,  as  though  he  had 
entirely  abandoned  himself  to  Fate.  Moscow  was  burned  ; 
his  army  began  to  suffer  from  hunger ;  Alexander  made  no 
reply  to  Napoleon's  letters.  One  morning,  the  22nd  of 


1 84  MILITARISM 

October,  Napoleon  arose,  irritated  after  a  sleepless  night,  and 
summoned  a  council  of  generals.  He  expounded  to  them  an 
elaborate  war-plan  he  had  matured  during  the  night,  viz.  to 
march  through  Twer  to  St.  Petersburg  in  mid-winter.  And 
the  master  of  the  world  had  not  thought  of  the  single  difficulty 
which  immediately  occurs  to  Davout,  i.e.  that  in  a  day  three 
hundred  peasants  could  render  impracticable  the  road  from 
Twer  to  St.  Petersburg,  which  ran  for  a  hundred  leagues 
through  marshes  capable  of  swallowing  up  the  whole  army ! 
The  first  snows  fell  and  the  retreat  became  an  urgent 
necessity  ;  the  generals  awaited  this  order.  Napoleon  did 
not  give  it,  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  let  the  word 
"  retreat"  pass  his  lips  in  the  presence  of  his  generals.  He 
adopted  a  circumlocution  which  salved  his  pride,  saying  that 
in  twenty  days  the  army  should  be  in  winter  quarters. 
When  at  last  he  resolved  to  issue  the  order,  it  was  found  that 
the  horses  did  not  suffice  for  the  transport  of  the  artillery. 
And  yet  he  persisted  in  his  desire  to  carry  everything  with 
him,  even  at  the  cost  of  postponing  the  retreat,  for  fear  the 
Russians  should  retain  anything  as  a  trophy.  When  the 
army  neared  the  Beresina,  a  colonel  of  the  advance-guard 
arrived  with  the  terrible  news  that  the  Russian  troops  of 
Moldavia  had  reached  the  Beresina  and  occupied  the  whole 
of  the  passages.  Then  an  extraordinary  scene  was  witnessed. 
Napoleon,  enraged,  ground  his  teeth  and  waved  his  stick 
threatening  to  strike  the  messenger,  roaring,  "  It  is  not  true — 
it  is  not  true  !— you  lie  !  "  Blinded  by  fury,  he  raised  his  fist 
to  heaven  and  broke  out  into  terrible  oaths.  And  in  this 
moment,  when  all  appeared  lost,  in  which  it  did  not  seem 
possible  that  either  he  or  the  relics  of  this  army  should  escape 
imprisonment,  the  conqueror  wept  in  the  presence  of  his 
generals.  His  conduct,  in  short,  was  so  strange  that  all 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  185 

around  him  vaguely  felt  that  almost  superstitious  horror  and 
anguish  which  a  man,  struck  by  the  dark  and  immutable 
sentence   of  Destiny,   inspires.      "  It   is    incomprehensible," 
writes  Labaume,  "  how  Napoleon  could  have  been  so  blind 
and  obstinate  as  not  to  abandon  Russia  when  he  perceived 
that   the  capital,  on  which  he   had  counted   so   much,   no 
longer  existed,  and  that  winter  was  approaching.  ...  It  seems 
as  though  God  had  stupefied  him  as  a  punishment  for  his 
pride."     Carnot    declares    that    he    no    longer    recognized, 
physically  or  morally,  in  the  aged  emperor  the  general  of  the 
Italian  Campaign.    "  He    used   to  be  thin,  suspicious,    and 
gloomy,  now  he  is  fat  and  jolly,  but  always  sleepy  and  dis- 
inclined.    He — the  man  of  rapid  decisions,  who  took  offence 
at  every  counsel  proffered — is  now  constantly  talking  instead 
of  acting,  and  asking  every  one  his  opinion."    "  The  Napoleon 
we  used   to  know  no  longer   exists,"  added   General   Van- 
damme  at  Waterloo.      And  General  Wolseley  concludes  a 
recent  study  on  the  downfall  of  Napoleon  with  these  words  : 
"No,  during  the  campaign  of  1813,  Napoleon  was  no  longer 
the  man  of  1796  and  1805.      The  extraordinary  vicissitudes 
of  his  life  appear  to  have  persuaded  him,  not  only  that  he 
differed  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  but  also  that  victory  was 
his  guardian  angel,  that  he  was  the  conjurer  of  Fortune." 
To  such  a  state  was  his  intelligence  reduced  by  pride  and  the 
exhaustion  of  war. 


V 

Napoleon  has  always  been  celebrated  as  possessing  a  deep 
knowledge  of  men,  as  being  an  able  practical  psychologist. 
Even  this  quality  has,  I  believe,  been  much  exaggerated  by 
his  admirers.  In  order  to  understand  mankind,  it  is  necessary 


1 86  MILITARISM 

not  to  despise  it  and  to  consider  one's  self  as  vastly  superior. 
Napoleon  was  too  egoistic,  too  deeply  persuaded  that  he  was 
made  of  better  clay.  He  possessed  a  special  psychological 
ability  in  things  concerned  with  war  ;  he  knew  how  to  inspire 
respect  and  fear  in  his  generals,  how  to  encourage  his  soldiers 
and  give  them  confidence,  how  to  dishearten  enemies  ;  he 
was,  in  short,  a  past-master  in  that  simple  game  of  elementary 
passions  which  constitutes  the  practical  psychology  of  war. 
He  had  a  rare  power  for  understanding  the  special,  I  might 
almost  say  technical,  capacities  of  men  ;  the  portraits  of  his 
generals,  for  instance,  which  he  has  given  us,  are  little 
masterpieces  of  psychology. 

But  a  comprehension  of  the  human  soul  in  its  entirety,  full 
of  those  complicated  and  contradictory  passions  which  build 
up  real  character,  he  did  not  possess.  Napoleon  was  a  one- 
sided psychologist,  who  only  grasped  a  few  elementary 
qualities  of  the  human  mind.  Used,  as  he  was,  to  imposing 
himself  by  force  and  fraud,  to  seeing  himself  always  sur- 
rounded by  men  governed  by  fear,  greed,  or  vanity,  led  by 
his  pride  to  consider  this  as  the  natural  condition  of  mankind, 
because  it  best  served  his  passion  for  power  and  flattered  his 
sense  of  superiority,  this  man  naturally  formed  a  pessimistic 
and  contemptuous  conception  of  humanity.  He  regarded  man 
not  only  as  a  being  replete  with  base  and  brutal  passions  (and 
in  this  he  was  right),  but — and  here  he  was  mistaken — as 
possessing  nothing  but  low  and  brutal  qualities,  stupid  into 
the  bargain,  and  easily  deceived  by  gross  impostures. 
Examine,  for  instance,  all  his  proclamations  to  his  soldiers, 
the  observations  he  has  left  on  social  and  psychological 
phenomena.  It  is  obvious  that  the  whole  scale  of  human 
psychology  is  composed  of  three  notes  only  for  Napoleon  : 
fear,  greed,  and  vanity.  Hence  arose  his  brutal  manner  of 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  187 

treating  his  fellow-men,  which  was  partially  good,  but  which 
applied  by  him  as  absolutely  good,  was  among  the  causes 
which  led  to  his  ruin. 

In  none  of  those  formidable  wars  on  which  he  embarked 
did  Napoleon  make  any  account  of  the  nobler  passions. 
Force  was  to  conquer  all ;  where  force  did  not  suffice  he 
employed  deceit  and  corruption ;  above  all,  deceit,  rude, 
simple,  and  into  which  these  fools  of  men — so  thought  this 
man  intoxicated  with  pride — must  always  fall.  His  system 
often  met  with  success  :  that  of  force  succeeded  in  Italy, 
where  the  higher  classes,  easy  going  and  addicted  to  a  quiet 
life,  accepted  his  dominion,  almost  without  resistance,  after 
their  armies  were  destroyed;  that  of  fraud  in  Poland,  where 
he  deluded  the  flower  of  the  Polish  youth  into  following  him 
by  the  forged  proclamations  of  Kosciuzko.  But  he  did  not 
understand  the  psychology  of  the  Spanish  peasant  and  the 
Russian  mujic  ;  he  never  imagined  that  the  soul  of  a  people, 
offended  in  its  rude  pride  and  religion,  could  be  roused  to  a 
fearful  outburst  of  courage,  energy,  and  desperate  hatred — to  a 
sentiment  of  anything  but  interest,  in  short ;  he  believed  that, 
the  armies  beaten,  everything  was  at  an  end,  and  that  the  vile 
multitude  would  submit  to  his  conquering  yoke  without  ado. 
But  the  armies  beaten,  he  found  himself,  on  the  contrary, 
enveloped  in  the  flames  of  a  terrible  conflagration  that  burst 
from  underground,  from  the  depth  of  the  peoples'  souls, 
where  a  more  violent  passion  had  extinguished  that  brutal 
cowardice  which,  according  to  the  fortunate  warrior,  was  the 
elementary  sentiment  of  mankind. 

Nothing  could  better  depict  this  ingenuousness  of  Napo- 
leon's, his  incapacity  to  understand  the  strong  energy  of  the 
human  soul,  than  that  which  he  contemplated  and  did  in 
the  Russian  campaign.  In  order  to  ingratiate  himself 


1 88  MILITARISM 

cheaply  with  the  Russian  people,  he  falsified  a  hundred 
million  rouble  notes.  These  he  counted  on  spending  liberally, 
bribing  and  buying  souls  and  goods,  thus  gaining  men  over 
to  his  side  through  the  vile  passion  for  money.  But  this 
idea,  which  in  any  other  country  would  have  been  regarded 
as  a  shameful  perfidy,  resulted  in  ridicule  in  Russia.  Between 
those  who  concealed  themselves,  those  who  burnt  down  their 
houses,  and  those  who  fled  before  him  leaving  nothing  but 
ruin  behind,  those  who  persecuted  with  petty  skirmishes  his 
retiring  army,  he  found  no  hands  outstretched  to  receive 
his  money.  Thus — Napoleon  himself  confessed  it  to  Lord 
Ebrington — nothing  surprised  him  more  than  the  Moscow 
conflagration,  that  unexpected  and  tragical  denoilment  of  the 
1812  campaign.  This  burning  was  partly  due  to  the  chance 
disorder  of  a  city  abandoned  by  its  inhabitants  and  occupied 
by  an  undisciplined  soldiery,  but  in  no  small  part  also  to  the 
patriotic  and  religious  mania  of  a  few  fanatics,  who  set  fire  to 
their  dwellings  rather  than  see  them  inhabited  by  the  enemy. 
An  abyss  of  fire  suddenly  opened  at  the  conqueror's  feet ; 
and  his  surprise  at  the  event  which  compelled  the  French 
army  to  retire,  and  condemned  it  to  destruction,  was  so  great 
,  that  he  expressed  himself  literally  in  these  words  to  Lord 
Ebrington  :  "  It  was  an  event  which  I  could  not  have  foreseen, 
for  it  was  without  precedent  in  the  world's  history." 

Napoleon  in  his  later  years  was  worn-out  and  ill.  Was  it 
a  caprice  of  chance  which  insinuated  the  germs  of  dissolution 
in  the  structure  of  this  colossus  ?  No  ;  he  carried  in  himself 
the  law  of  his  own  ruin,  which  no  human  force  could  avert. 
War,  to  which  he  owed  his  rise  and  the  glory  of  his  first 
successes,  slowly  undermined  his  intellect  by  exhausting 
work,  and  by  developing  that  pride  which  exiled  him  from 
the  world  to  the  solitudes  of  an  arrogant  might.  This  ruin 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  189 

was  not  the  work  of  chance,  or  individual  malady,  but  the 
natural  development  of  a  germ  of  decay  innate  in  the  man's  L 
character. 

He  was  not  a  man  who  created  by  his  genius  a  unique 
condition  of  things  in  history ;  he  was  a  man  who,  through 
pride  and  selfishness,  abused  a  most  extraordinary  good  for- 
tune, and  made  of  it  a  tool  for  his  own  destruction.  Napoleon 
does^  not  represent  that  victorious  force  of  will  and  human 
genius  which  subject  and  dominate  reality  within  the  limits 
of  reason,  but  the  moral  weakness  of  genius  which  knows  not 
how  to  resist  the  folly  of  pride,  and  squanders  all  its  energy 
to  satisfy  this  weakness.  He  is  a  monstrosity  rather  than 
an  example  of  human  greatness,  his  power  consisted  prin- 
cipally in  extravagances  and  violence. 


VI 

But  if  such  was  the  man,  must  we  conclude  that  all  his 
political  and  warlike  deeds  were  mere  ambitious  caprices, 
the  result  of  unmeasured  and  criminal  vanity  ? 

That  personal  egoism  and  pride  were  among  his  political 
motives  is  certain,  as  it  is  certain  that  the  devotion  of  his 
generals  was  in  a  large  measure  proportionate  to  the  high 
salaries  he  paid  them.  In  the  Emperor's  view,  many  of  his 
wars  were  merely  the  caprices  of  an  Assyrian  king  ambitious 
to  refresh  the  terror  with  which  his  name  inspired  the  world, 
as  in  his  generals'  views  they  were  mere  plunderings  by  which 
they  stuffed  their  pockets  at  the  expense  of  their  victims. 

But  in  history  the  results  of  a  man's  deeds  frequently  far 
surpass  what  he  had  contemplated,  as  a  ball,  thrown  by  a 
strong  arm,  frequently  goes  beyond  the  destined  limit  Thus 
the  Napoleonic  wars,  without  the  cognizance  of  their  author, 


MILITARISM 

contributed  to  a  social  work  of  great  importance  to  some  of 
the  conquered  countries  :  those  which  were  Catholic  ;  that  is 
to  say;  a  work  which  is  the  explanation,  and  in  part  the 
justification,  of  those  fearful  slaughters. 

Napoleon  was  a  Jacobin  ;  the  most  coherent  and  energetic, 
and  therefore,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  useful  and  dangerous 
of  Jacobins.  The  Napoleonic  wars,  so  far  as  they  were  not 
merely  the  bloody  manias  of  a  conqueror,  but  useful  historical 
events,  were  the  decisive  victories  of  Jacobinism  ;  and,  as 
such,  they  were  necessary  and  beneficial  episodes  in  the 
struggle  which  waged  for  three  centuries  between  the  new 
spirit  of  liberty,  elaborated  by  European  civilization,  and  the 
Oriental  spirit  of  universal  spiritual  dominion  by  which  the 
Catholic  Church  exists.  The  Catholic  Church  was  not  merely 
a  religion,  that  is,  a  theological  doctrine  and  system  of  rites 
dealing  with  the  worship  of  divinity,  it  was,  and  still  is,  a 
state  which  aims  at  directing,  in  accordance  with  certain  ideas, 
the  whole  of  society :  the  family,  education,  law,  the  State, 
charity,  art  and  science.  The  fact  that  it  has  never  possessed 
political  power,  except  within  a  very  narrow  limit,  does  not 
detract,  nay,  rather  adds  to  the  power  and  originality  of  this 
singular  theocracy  that  aims  at  being  a  universal  spiritual 
empire  higher  than  all  national  states.  A  grandiose  ambition 
— perhaps  the  greatest  that  history  has  ever  witnessed,  and  one 
corresponded  to  the  perfection  of  the  organization  and  energy, 
stronger  than  time. 

This  ambition  for  dominion  over  the  minds  of  men  is 
/indeed  Oriental  and  mystical,  this  desire  which  the  Church 
has  always  displayed  to  subordinate  to  itself  all  the  intellec- 
tual forces  of  education,  science  and  art;  Oriental  and  mystical 
also  is  the  negative  conception  of  life  which  is  considered 
as  a  painful  expiation  rather  than  as  a  thing  to  be  enjoyed. 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  19 1 

Mystical  and  Oriental,  further,  is  its  fundamental  moral 
theory,  that  perfection  consists  in  the  capacity  to  annihilate 
will  and  personality.  The  result  has  been  that  for  centuries, 
as  the  human  mind  and  European  civilization  evolved  by 
degrees,  men  felt  an  ever-increasing  need  for  liberty,  and  dis- 
covered that  many  direct  or  indirect  Church  regulations  could 
be  greatly  improved  upon,  that  many  Church  institutions, 
such  as  monasticism  and  celibacy,  were  injurious  to  society 
as  a  whole.  Then  commenced  the  struggle  against  the 
Church,  resolved  to  defend  its  institutions  and  ideas,  a 
struggle  to  which  many  nations  gave  a  religious  solution  by 
reforms,  substituting  other  churches  for  the  Catholic,  sects 
whose  institutions  were  weaker,  whose  moral  and  religious 
theories  were  more  plastic.  Thus  in  Protestant  countries 
the  various  and  diverse  churches,  all  of  whom  are  weak,  were 
never  able  to  acquire  much  social  and  political  importance, 
and  remained  subordinate  to  the  State,  which  was  thus  freed 
from  the  rivalry  of  that  other  state — the  Catholic  Church. 

But  in  those  countries  where  the  Church  managed  to  quell 
the  movement  for  disestablishment,  it  took  courage  to  reform 
itself,  as  in  the  Council  of  Trent,  and  with  the  Jesuit  move- 1 
ment.  But  these  reforms  only  affected  its  internal  discipline, 
and  not  its  ambition  for  spiritual  dominion  and  its  rigid  con- 
servative spirit,  which  indeed,  lent  it  fresh  strength.  The 
Jesuits  took  a  large  part  in  this  movement.  But,  during  the 
eighteenth  century,  Catholic  societies  began  to  find  irksome 
this  mental  coercion  which  partly  assisted  and  partly  opposed 
the  lay  authorities.  The  more  enlightened  men  of  the  times 
considered  the  influence  of  the  clergy  and  monks  as  pernicious. 
Thought  and  science  advanced  in  Protestant  countries  and 
felt  the  need  of  intellectual  liberty  in  Catholic  lands,  a  need 
which  the  Church  refused  to  recognize.  With  the  spread  of 


MILITARISM 

knowledge,  a  part  of  the  community  began  to  regard  the 
gross  superstitions  born  of  ignorance  with  a  species  of  disgust ; 
but  the  clergy,  more  especially  its  more  ignorant  members, 
spread  them  far  and  wide  among  the  people.  The  tenacity 
with  which  the  priests  and  monks  sought  to  work  their  way 
into  families  and  sow  discord,  led  to  grave  discontent.  All 
political,  fiscal,  and  judicial  reforms,  which  the  superior  men 
of  the  times  attempted  to  introduce,  went  counter  to  the  views 
of  the  Church.  Finally  the  need  was  felt  for  more  wealth 
and  the  better  use  of  it,  and  all  the  remonstrances  addressed 
to  the  Church  terminated  with  accusing  it  of  accumulating 
and  abusing  riches,  with  employing  both  the  immense  pro- 
perties belonging  to  it,  and  wasting  what  little  money  they 
possessed,  in  maintaining  prelates  in  luxury,  monks  in  idle- 
ness, and  beautifying  churches  with  gold  and  precious  stones. 
Jacobinism  was  essentially  a  political  solution  of  the 
problem  of  the  relations  between  modern  civilization  and 
/  the  Catholic  Church.  The  Church,  during  the  last  century, 
obstinately  opposed  all  social  and  political  reforms  which  a 
minority  of  intelligent  men  demanded  as  necessary.  How 
to  quell  this  opposition  was  the  question.  These  minorities 
could  not  give  the  problem  a  religious  solution  such  as 
Protestantism,  nor  oppose  smaller,  less  ambitious,  conserva- 
tive and  powerful  sects.  They  held  no  beliefs,  or  at  best  a 
very  vague  one  in  theism  ;  thus  they  could  not  put  them- 
selves at  the  head  of  new  creeds  and  attempt  to  reform  the 
religious  ideas  of  the  masses.  These,  moreover,  were  satisfied 
neither  with  the  incredulity  nor  the  vague  belief  which  could 
only  find  favour  with  cultured  people.  The  masses,  for  want 
of  a  better  faith,  remained  Catholic,  and  a  political  rather 
than  a  religious  solution  had  to  be  found  for  the  problem. 
The  Church  was  allowed  to  continue  the  profession  of  its 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  193 

Oriental  ideas,  and  its  authoritarian  conception  of  society  ; 
but  in  order  to  diminish  its  influence,  the  Jacobins  organized 
against  it  a  strong  State,  that  made  itself  master  of  the  country, 
and  proposed  to  regulate  in  accordance  with  its  own  views 
the  life  of  the  whole  community  in  frank  opposition  to  the 
views  of  the  Church.  Such  was  the  Jacobin  State  founded 
on  a  democratic  executive.  It  conceded  to  the  country  all 
those  liberties  which  could  counteract  the  power  of  the  Church 
and  first  of  all  the  intellectual  liberty  to  discuss  dogmas,  to 
profess  atheism  and  agnosticism.  It  despoiled  the  Church 
of  its  landed  property,  and  enriched  itself  by  taxes,  and, 
through  money,  it  tried  to  gain  that  ascendency  over  the 
middle  class  which  the  Church  had  attained  by  money, 
substituting  the  bureaucracy  for  the  monastery,  offering,  by 
State  employments  to  the  sons  of  middle-class  families,  the 
means  to  raise  themselves  above  the  masses,  which  were 
formerly  offered  by  the  ecclesiastical  grades  and  convents. 
In  everything  else  the  new  Jacobin  State  entered  into  com- 
petition, so  to  speak,  with  the  Church.  It  organized  secular 
in  opposition  to  religious  education,  State  philanthropy  in 
opposition  to  Church  charity  ;  it  sought  to  encourage  profane 
art  and  science  ;  it  established  civil  marriage  and,  in  some 
countries,  even  civil  baptism.  The  Jacobin  State,  in  short, 
wished  to  replace  all  the  social  functions  of  the  Church  in  a 
new  secular  spirit ;  a  condition  of  things  special  to  Catholic 
countries,  and  not  to  be  met  with  in  Protestant,  where  the 
State  does  not  consider  as  enemies  the  various  sects  under 
its  power. 

Napoleon  gave  the  finishing  touch  to  this  grand  and,  in  a 
certain  measure,  extravagant  social  renovation  of  doubling 
the  functions  of  the  State,  a  work  which  the  Revolution  had 
commenced,  thanks  to  the  Jacobins  and  the  Convention. 


194  MILITARISM 

By  organizing  the  administration  which  still  rules  France, 
Napoleon  only  completed  the  work  of  the  Convention  ;  with 
the  difference  that  the  former  destined  the  executive  to  be 
the  tool  of  a  democratic  oligarchy,  opposed  to  both  Church 
and  Monarchy,  and   Napoleon  intended  it  as  an  instrument 
of  his  own  military  despotism.    But  in  this  case,  also,  ultimate 
results  went  far  beyond   human   intentions.     The  Jacobins 
and  Napoleon  disappeared  ;  the  administration  remained,  the 
apparatus  of  a  new  conception  of  government  matured  by  the 
French  people  in  opposition  to  the  Church,  "an   instrument 
destined  to  save    France  from   theocratic  despotism.      This 
revolution,  brought  about  in  France  by  Napoleon,  was  com- 
menced by  his  invasion  of  other  Catholic  countries  :  Italy, 
Spain,    Austria,    Belgium,    the    Ticino    Canton.      In    these 
countries,  more  particularly  in  Italy,  feudalism  and  spiritual 
tyranny  were    decomposing  in  the  eighteenth  century ;  the 
decadence  ,of  the   aristocracy  and    monarchy  rilled    society 
with   misery,  corruption,  and   disorder,  whilst  only  a  small 
minority  of  cultured    men   realized  the   necessity  for  great 
political  and  ecclesiastical  reforms.     But  the  Church,  strong 
in  the  blind  support  of  the  masses,  opposed  these  energeti- 
cally.    Hence  these    minorities  felt  too  weak  to  break  the 
alliance  that  bound  this  ancient  constitution  with  feudalism. 
Then,  just  when    they   found    themselves   discouraged   and 
disgusted  at  their  own  impotence,  Napoleon  and  the  French 
invasions   came   to   their   aid,  and   in   a   few  months   were 
wrought  the  necessary  reforms  which  they  had  been  unable 
to  obtain  in  opposition  to  the  allegiance  between  the  masses, 
the  Church,  and  tne  bigoted  feudal  aristocracy.    The  Gordian 
knot  which  they  had  so  long  struggled  to  untie  was  suddenly 
cut  by  the  sword  of  a  warrior,  by  his  victories  in  Catholic 
countries,      Napoleon   assured    the    triumph    of  Jacobinism 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  195 

over  the  Church.  What  matters  it,  for  instance,  if,  after 
1815,  Italy  appeared  to  fall  again  into  the  power  of  the 
Church?  The  Jacobin  spirit  introduced  by  the  conquests  >/ 
had  fermented,  and  finally  broke  out  in  the  revolution  of 
1859-60,  creating  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  state  that 
had  docilely  served  the  Pope  the  new  Italian  secular  and 
Jacobin  Government,  destined,  like  the  French,  to  rule  in  the 
name  of  an  ideal  opposed  to  the  Church. 

Such  was  the  true  useful  result  of  the  Napoleonic  conquests 
which  it  would  be  as  unjust  to  deny  as  it  would  be  unreason- 
able to  attribute  all  the  merit  to  Napoleon  and  his  genius. 
He  was  merely  the  violent  and  impetuous  executor  of  the 
Jacobin  programme,  using  it  as  a  pretext  for  his  extravagant 
ambition.  Moreover,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  number 
and  proportion  of  his  wars  was  too  great  in  comparison  with 
the  partial  utility  of  their  results.  What  a  gigantic  waste  of 
life  and  property  he  caused  throughout  the  whole  of  Europe, 
with  the  effect  of  aiding  the  social  evolution  of  a  part ! 
Napoleon  helped  in  the  work  of  human  progress,  but  not  by 
opening  up  large  and  easy  routes  through  a  new  and  desert 
region  ;  he  rather  constructed  a  frail  bridge  across  a  deep 
and  terrible  abyss  full  of  perils.  He  wasted  all  the  timber 
of  an  immense  forest  in  order  to  construct  this  little  bridge, 
and  he  did  not  mind  sacrificing  a  large  number  of  workers 
during  its  construction.  His  proud  and  tremendous  halluci- 
nations contained  a  small  element  of  truth  and  reason,  and 
through  his  misty  dreams  he  caught  a  vague  glimpse  of  the 
future. 


1 96  MILITARISM 


VII 

These  things  being  true,  how  are  we  to  account  for  the  lively 
admiration  for  the  man  that  has  so  revived  of  late  years  ? 

May  I  be  allowed  to  say  it  frankly :  the  Napoleon-worship 
is  to  the  higher  classes  what  brigand-worship  is  to  the  lower. 
The  upper  classes  always  believe  themselves  to  be  superior 
to  the  masses,  not  because  they  have  fewer  vices,  but  because 
they  are  able  to  satisfy  them  in  a  more  refined  manner.  Thus 
the  cultured  classes  in  Europe  read  with  avidity  the  history 
of  Napoleon  for  the  same  reasons  that  the  working  classes 
devour  brigand  tales.  One  of  the  greatest  intellectual 
pleasures,  felt  by  men  of  all  conditions,  lies  in  the  perusal 
of  books  of  adventure,  describing  life  free  from  all  the  laws 
which  render  ours  so  secure  and  monotonous.  A  simple  and 
uneducated  man  finds  this  pleasure  in  reading  about  the  bold 
bad  brigand.  A  better  educated  man  needs  more  delicate 
food  for  his  imagination  ;  and  this  order  of  literature  can 
offer  him  nothing  more  exciting,  nearer  to  our  times,  or 
more  dramatic,  than  the  Napoleonic  story.  What  is  it  in 
Napoleon's  history  that  proves  so  seductive  to  youths  who 
vegetate  in  the  monotony  of  contemporary  life  ?  The  inex- 
haustible surprises,  the  miraculous  changes  of  fortune,  and 
the  romantic  existence  led  by  the  chiefs  of  the  Napoleonic 
horde — those  corporals  who  became  generals  in  a  few  years, 
those  sons  of  innkeepers  who  became  dukes,  kings,  and 
millionaires ;  that  romantic  life  of  reviews,  marches  across 
Europe,  battles,  triumphant  entrances  into  conquered  cities 
amidst  the  excitement  of  applauding  men  and  women  who 
pelted  them  with  flowers  ;  this  panorama  of  perils  and  ex- 
citements, of  gallant  adventures  and  unforeseen  fortunes, 


NAPOLEON  AND   HIS    WARS  197 

which  formed  the  existence  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Napoleonic 
adventures,  and  which  we  imagine  were  common  to  the  time, 
without  reflecting  that  if  a  few  enjoyed  a  great  feast,  many 
were  forced  to  pay  the  expenses. 

The  history  of  Napoleon  affords  yet  another  pleasure  to 
educated  people,  just  as  that  of  a  brigand  does  to  an  un- 
educated man.  It  is  the  pleasure  which  springs  from  admira- 
tion, the  ideal  pleasure  felt  in  witnessing  the  affirmation  of  a 
striking  individuality.  One  of  the  greatest  of  human  pleasures 
lies  in  dominion,  the  imposition  of  our  will  over  others.  In 
order  to  enjoy  this  in  real  life,  a  strong  will  and  the  material 
possibility  to  rule  are  necessary,  just  as  to  enjoy  a  life  of 
adventure  great  force  of  character  is  required  to  bdar  up 
against  times  of  adversity.  The  power  of  the  great  is  much 
reduced  nowadays,  for  the  conflict  of  interests  tends  to  ]  < 
establish  an  equilibrium  of  power,  and  few  possess  sufficient 
energy  to  be  able  to  support  a  life  of  adventure.  Men,  there- 
fore, seek  an  ideal  satisfaction  in  the  perusal  of  the  histories 
of  brigands  and  heroes.  For  the  ignorant  and  the  educated, 
the  pleasure  is  identical  ;  the  sense  of  admiration  roused  by 
the  contemplation  of  their  hero  is  like  a  reflection  of  the 
pleasure  they  would  derive  from  ruling  themselves,  or  from 
pursuing  a  prosperous  life  of  adventure  and  pleasure. 

But  he  who  fully  considers  the  case  will  not  allow  himself 
to  be  seduced  by  the  illusion  cast  by  time.  Napoleon  was 
a  mighty  warrior,  who  lived  at  a  singular  period  of  the  great 
struggle  between  the  Catholic  spirit  of  dominion  and  the  spirit 
of  liberty,  between  the  Asiatic  spirit  represented  by  the 
Church,  and  the  European  as  represented  by  the  Revolution. 
Fate  made  use  of  this  second  Attila,  of  this  proud  and  violent 
man,  as  a  temporary  tool  in  the  great  social  struggle  which 
for  three  centuries  had  tormented  Europe.  War  was  able 


198  MILITARISM 

to  be  useful  at  that  moment,  and  Attila  appeared,  sum- 
moned by  the  need  of  the  age.  But  this  Attila,  although 
engaged  on  a  partially  beneficial  task,  always  remained  at 
bottom  a  warrior — a  destroyer.  He  fulfilled  his  task,  but 
with  terrible  loss  and  waste,  ruining  many  great  and  beautiful 
living  things  for  a  comparatively  small  result,  finally  ruining 
himself  and  his  genius. 


MILITARISM    AND    CESARISM 
IN    FRANCE 


CHAPTER  VII 

MILITARISM  AND  OESARISM  IN   FRANCE 

I 

To  the  query,  "  What  is  France  ? "  comes  the  answer,  "  A 
Republic."  But  "  republic  "  is  a  word  signifying  many  and 
diverse  things.  We  must,  therefore,  overlook  superficialities 
and  seek  under  the  surface  if  we  desire  to  understand  the 
military  policy  of  the  European  state  which  has  waged  the 
greatest  wars  of  the  century,  and  has  played,  and  still 
plays,  such  an  important  part  in  the  political  events  of 
the  world. 

France  is  a  parliamentary  and  democratic  republic,  founded 
on  universal  suffrage.  But  the  republican  constitution  to- 
day is  what  the  monarchy  and  empire  were  in  the  past,  a 
mere  bark  whose  nature  has  changed,  but  which  still  covers 
its  original  trunk  and  pith  ;  that  is  Caesarism.  France  is  still 
the  country  of  surprises  and  enigmas :  a  little-known  and 
misjudged  land,  admired  or  contemned  at  hazard,  because 
the  real  nature  of  its  Government  is  generally  ignored.  The 
study  of  French  militarism  serves  to  acquaint  us  with  the 
life  and  structure  of  this  social  system. 

Essentially  military  ideas  are  still  most  popular  in  France,^ 
more  especially  with  the  cultured  classes.     Although,  owing 
to  an  increase  in  the  sentiment  of  justice,  war  between  civilized  ^ 
nations  is  coming  to  be  considered  by  many  as  only  tolerable 


202  MILITARISM 

when  urged  in  defence  of  some  principle,  the  general  senti- 
ment amongst  educated  Frenchmen  is  favourable  to  war,  and 
little  tempered  by  moral  considerations.  They  deem  it  a 
great  thing,  per  se,  for  a  nation  to  conquer  ;  political  and 

military  supremacy  are  regarded  as  the  first  factors  in  the 
V 

superiority  of  a  civilization.     Hence,  a  conquered  nation  that 

has  not  yet  taken  its  revenge  must  necessarily  consider  its 
civilization  in  decadence.  The  policy  which  aims  at  the 
annexation  of  fresh  territories,  in  Europe,  Asia,  or  Africa, 
is  considered  excellent  in  itself,  as  by  increasing  the  area 
of  an  empire,  its  glory  and  power  is  also  increased,  where- 
fore the  cost  in  men  and  money  is  held  of  small  account. 

That  such  is  the  opinion  of  educated  France  well  appears 
from  what  follows  ;  for  the  time  being  I  wish  merely  to 
remark  that  this  is  not  due  to  chance  or  to  any  special  dis- 
position on  the  part  of  the  French,  who  are  not  born  possessed 
of  devils  or  a  passion  for  righting.  The  collective  ideas  and 
sentiments  occupying  the  minds  of  a  people  during  an  entire 
historical  epoch  are  never  without  some  meaning,  they  are 
not  created  out  of  nothing;  their  existence  is  always  con- 
nected with  some  special  social  structure,  as  a  musical  sound 
is  connected  with  some  instrument.  A  blind  man,  on  hearing 
a  piano  played,  might  imagine  that  the  sounds  vibrated 
in  the  air  independently  of  any  metallic  cords  or  sounding- 
boards  ;  but  when  some  idea  or  passion  possesses  the  minds 
of  a  nation  during  a  whole  period,  we  are  blind  in  spirit  if 
we  imagine  that  it  exists  of  itself  without  being  connected 
with  some  social  structure,  as  music  is  connected  with  an 
instrument.  The  social  structure  at  the  base  of  French 
^militarism  is  the  Jacobin  lay  State  created  by  the  Revolution 
in  opposition  to  the  Church. 


MILITARISM  AND   C/ESARISM  IN  FRANCE      203 


II 

I  must  repeat  here  what  I  said  in  speaking  of  Napoleon  : 
the  Jacobin  State  represents  a  political  solution  to  the  problem  ^ 
of  the  relation  between  Catholicism  and  modern  society,  and 
was  created  by  a  cultured  and  unbelieving  minority  to  be  the  t 
bulwark  of  a  society  founded  on  liberty ;  but  an  indissoluble 
contradiction  presided  like  an  unlucky  star  at  its  birth.  We 
might  almost  name  it  the  original  sin  of  the  modern  Latin 
nations,  and  more  especially  of  France  and  Italy,  to  which 
their  greatest  misfortunes  are  attributable.  The  opposition^ 
to  feudalism,  and  the  spiritual  theocracy  of  the  Church,/ 
originated  in  the  general  weariness  of  tyranny  grown  morally 
and  materially  insupportable.  In  France,  during  the  last 
century,  public  opinion  came  to  consider  it  as  unjust  that 
certain  men  should  pretend  to  possess  power  without  con- 
trol and  truth  without  discussion.  The  theory  of  popular 
sovereignty  was  founded  in  opposition  to  absolute  Monarchy. 
It  was  affirmed  that  authority,  as  a  human  institution,  should  be 
wielded  by  the  numerical  majority  of  that  society  which  con- 
trolled it,  and  that  it  should  be  discussed,  criticized,  changed 
without  difficulty,  and  subjected  to  such  control  and  restric- 
tions as  would  prevent  it  from  degenerating  into  a  tyranny. 
In  opposition  to  the  Church  was  affirmed  the  divinity  of 
human  thought,  capable  of  great  deeds  when  freed  from  the 
trammels  of  superstition.  It  was  said  that  men  and  nations 
were  capable  of  governing  themselves,  recognizing  no  other 
authority  than  that  of  reason,  and  ignoring  those  who  named 
themselves  the  ministers  of  God,  and  who  were  in  fact  His 
enemies,  and  desired  to  keep  the  world  in  ignorance  for  their 
own  interest,  But  the  advocates  of  liberty  were  a  small  class 


204  MILITARISM 

composed  of  the  enlightened  men  of  the  time,  of  the  dis- 
contented and  declasses,  of  the  middle  class,  of  the  turbulent 
portion  of  the  working  population  of  large  towns,  who  rose 
to  power,  not  through  the  force  of  their  ideas,  but  because 
the  ancient  regime  was  so  far  advanced  in  decay,  and  the 
Government  so  little  capable  of  governing,  that  a  small  and 
bold  minority  was  able  to  make  itself  master  of  everything. 
The  greater  number  remained  voluntarily  under  the  control 
of  the  Church,  and,  therefore,  showed  themselves  hostile  to 
the  new  ideas  of  liberty,  sometimes  in  a  fanatical  spirit,  some- 
times merely  passively.  The  result  was  that  the  liberal 
minority  in  France  during  the  Revolution  and  the  Empire 
I/were  forced,  in  order  to  maintain  their  authority,  as  hap- 
pened also  later  on  in  Italy,  to  impose  a  liberal  regime  tyran- 
nically by  means  of  force,  and  to  enter  into  competition  with 
the  Church,  imitating  it  in  many  of  its  authoritarian  ways. 

We  have  observed,  in  our  study  of  Spanish  and  American 
society,  that  true  liberty  can  only  exist  where  the  educated 
classes  lead  a  useful  existence.  Despotic  societies,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  found  to  be  based  on  the  spirit  of  protection.  Now, 
the  Catholic  Church,  after  the  Roman  Empire,  was  the  greatest 
State  ever  founded  on  protection.  It  was,  indeed,  essentially 
a  gigantic  system  of  protection,  organized  in  barbarous  times 
to  assure  men,  through  the  fear  of  God,  against  those  perils  due 
to  the  poverty  and  ignorance  of  the  age.  The  great  wealth 
it  has  always  aimed  at  accumulating,  the  culture  it  has  sought 
to  attain,  were  the  tools  with  which  it  hoped,  and  perhaps 
still  hopes,  to  rule  the  minds  of  men.  Its  gigantic  hierarchy, 
whose  highest  posts  are  attainable  by  men  in  all  conditions, 
was  always  a  means  whereby  the  intelligent  members  of 
the  poorer  classes  could  become  rich  and  powerful,  even  in 
an  age  when;  owing  to  the  prevalence  of  poverty,  ignorance, 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      20$ 

and  disparity  of  fortune,  it  was  more  difficult  to  rise.  The 
Church  exercised  in  the  past  an  able  patronage  over  all  those 
studies  not  dangerous  to  Faith.  It  received  into  its  ranks, 
by  providing  them  with  a  modest  but  sure  livelihood,  many 
of  those  "  intellectuals  "  who,  as  long  as  they  were  able  to 
attend  to  their  studies  without  worrying,  material  cares, 
willingly  renounced  the  vanity  of  wealth  and  power.  By 
the  monastic  system,  moreover,  Catholicism  organized  a 
splendid  scheme  of  charity  which  benefited  all  social  classes. 
To  unmarried  women  and  widows  it  offered  a  shelter  in  con- 
vents ;  to  the  poor  fathers  of  over-numerous  families  it  gave 
relief  by  accepting  a  son  among  the  monks  ;  to  all  those  who 
found  themselves  de  trop  in  social  life  it  offered  a  refuge. 
By  obliging  the  rich,  in  an  age  when  the  sentiment  of  social 
solidarity  was  feeble,  to  give  money  to  the  poor  through 
threats  of  hell,  it  found  a  means  of  assisting  the  indigent. 
They  made  one  of  their  principal  arms  of  this  system  of 
charity  at  the  cost,  it  is  true,  of  encouraging  idleness.  Every 
church  and  convent  was  a  fountain  of  charity,  both  to  the 
genuine  poor  and  to  professional  vagabonds.  In  short,  the 
Church  was  a  reserve  of  spiritual  and  material  assistances^ 
for  all  human  weaknesses  and  improvidence  ;  it  assured  the 
nobility  the  hereditary  transmission  of  the  father's  wealth  to 
his  first-born  by  making  monks  and  priests  of  the  younger 
sons  ;  it  assisted  the  intelligent  and  ambitious  members  of 
the  lower  and  middle  classes  to  overcome  the  drawbacks 
of  humble  birth  ;  it  persuaded  the  rich  to  sacrifice  part  of 
their  wealth,  which  it  distributed  amongst  the  poor,  thereby 
alleviating  their  sufferings  and  conducing  them  to  remain 
obedient  and  docile. 

The  Church  was  indeed  what  it  professed  to  be,  the  Santa  , 
,  the  universal   protectrix  in  the  rude  and  barbarous 


206  MILITARISM 

ages  which  gave  birth  to  our  civilization.  Owing  to  the 
difficulty  in  augmenting  wealth  due  to  the  scarcity  of  capital, 
education,  and  civilization,  many  would  have  dragged  out 
a  fearfully  degraded  existence  without  her  benevolent 
influence.  This  vast  protective  system  had,  until  the 
Revolution  in  France,  and  in  Italy  until  1848  (though  in 
a  somewhat  modified  degree),  formed  practically  the  back- 
bone of  society,  consequently  it  necessarily  exerted  an 
immense  influence  over  ideas,  institutions,  and  customs.  It 
encouraged  amongst  the  masses  a  tendency  towards  idleness 
and  ignorance,  an  impetuosity  of  affection  and  simplicity  of 
mind  that  pertain  to  savages,  a  servile  reverence  and  humility 
towards  those  whom  they  considered  as  benefactors.  In  the 
middle  classes  it  developed  political  passivity,  indifference  to 
public  affairs,  social  egoism,  devotion  to  the  powers  that  be, 
and  the  need  to  be  protected.  In  the  highest  class  it 
encouraged  idleness,  bigotry,  vanity,  and  the  ambition  to 
distinguish  itself,  not  by  benefiting  society,  but  by  piety,  by 
ostentatious  charity  and  almsgiving. 

Now,  these  habits  and  traditions,  which  in  the  course  of 
centuries  had  penetrated  into  the  very  marrow  of  society, 
could  not  disappear  in  a  day.  No  wonder  they  found  a 
terrible  impediment  to  the  establishment  of  a  genuinely  free 
regime.  The  Jacobin  State,  whose  object  was  to  give  liberty 
to  France,  grew  rapidly  entangled  in  a  grave  contradiction, 
for  it  was  compelled  to  establish  a  new  protective  system 
analogous  to  that  of  the  Church,  in  order  to  raise  itself  from 
the  condition  of  a  feeble  governmental  minority  engulphed 
in  the  midst  of  a  vast  hostile  community.  French  society, 
accustomed  for  centuries  to  universal  Church  protection, 
would  have  found  itself,  when  the  Church  was  stripped  of 
wealth  and  power,  as  though  deprived  of  some  necessity  of 


MILITARISM  AND    C.ESARISM  IN   FRANCE      2OJ 

existence,  in  a  terrible  position,  whose  dangers  can  be  appre- 
hended if  we  study  that  agitated  period  of  French  history 
from  the  proclamation  of  the  Republic  to  the  establishment 
of  the  Napoleonic  rule.  Napoleon's  reign  saved  France  and 
the  work  of  the  Revolution,  by  definitely  organizing,  on  the 
lines  traced  out  by  the  Convention,  the  new  universal  secular 
protection  of  the  Jacobin  State  in  place  of  that  formerly 
exercised  by  the  Church. 

Thus  the  French  Government  took  the  middle  class  under 
its  protection,  and  offered  to  it,  by  means  of  the  bureaucracy, 
the  same  advantages  which  Catholicism  had  offered  by 
churches  and  monasteries.  Such  was  the  origin,  and  is  still 
the  function,  of  those  400,000  governmental  and  127,000 
county  and  communal  officials,  who  receive  together  in 
salaries  637  million  francs  (or  about  25^  millions  sterling) 
a  year,  to  which,  if  we  add  the  .£8,000,000  which  goes  in 
pensions  to  the  veterans  of  the  bureaucratic  army,  amounts 
to  a  sum  of  nearly  ,£34,000,000.  This  civil  and  military  ; 
bureaucracy,  whose  origin  can  be  traced  back  to  the  reign 
of  Louis  XIV.,  strengthened  and  amplified  by  the  Conven- 
tion, by  Napoleon,  and  successive  Governments,  is  renewed 
from  among  the  bourgeoisie,  but  is  occasionally  reinforced 
by  some  recruit  from  the  aristocracy  or  the  people.  It  is 
ruled  by  a  competitive  system  of  promotion,  in  which  intrigue 
plays  as  important  a  part  as  merit  ;  but  which  in  recom- 
pense is  democratic,  for  no  privilege  of  birth  is  recognized 
there.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  larger  part  of  this 
bureaucracy  is  not  handsomely  paid,  middle-class  families 
always  aim  at  seeking  for  one  of  their  number  a  post  as  sub- 
prefect,  army  officer,  or  Government  employe.  But  although 
this  august  body  is  democratically  constituted,  it  is  not  open 
to  all,  since  it  can  only  be  entered  after  a  novitiate,  and  in 


208  MILITARISM 

accordance  with  certain  rules  ;  the  novitiate  of  all  public 
schools,  gymnasiums,  universities,  polytechnic  and  military 
institutes,  whose  diplomas  accord  a  right  to  compete  for 
the  highest  posts,  thus  practically  reserving  these  for  the 
well-to-do  classes. 

Thus  the  election  of  the  executive  in  France,  at  the  outset 
of  the  new  regime,  was  an  act  distinctly  favourable  to  the 
bourgeoisie,  in  which  manner  the  State  demonstrated  itself 
to  be  the  successor  of  the  Church.  But  logic  is  an  inexorable 
law  of  life.  The  Jacobin  Government  was  no  foe  to  modern 
civilization  ;  indeed,  its  programme  favoured  progress  in  op- 
position to  the  conservatism  of  the  clergy  and  of  feudalism. 
But  with  the  growth  of  civilization  the  State  multiplied  its 
favours,  and  made  of  all  modern  discoveries,  from  railways  to 
science  and  hygiene,  a  pretext  for  its  protective  generosity. 
Thus  the  French  Government  developed  into  a  gigantic 
system  of  private  interests  that  collected,  by  means  of  a 
thousand  channels,  prodigious  riches  which  it  redistributed 
to  a  thousand  emissaries.  Thus  it  can  annually  assign  a  sum 
of  about  a  milliard  francs  for  the  benefit  of  its  officials,  while 
nearly  another  milliard  francs  is  put  by  every  year  to  pay 
those  who  make  Government  loans.  Fabulous  sums  are  spent 
every  year  on  subventions  and  bounties  in  aid  of  mistaken 
industries  and  doubtful  speculations,  in  supporting  educa- 
tional and  philanthropic  schemes.  Immense  credit  is  given 
to  contractors  for  public  works,  useful  or  otherwise  ;  huge 
fortunes  are  spent  on  the  army  and  navy,  and  for  the  exer- 
cise of  large  Government  monopolies,  such  as  tobacco  and 
matches.  Conspicuous  sums  are  spent  on  the  maintenance 
of  expensive  colonies,  and  on  paying  out  a  large  number  of 
small  salaries  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  public  mendicity,  whose 
forms  are  infinite  :  such  as  subsidies  to  race-courses^  theatres, 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE 

exhibitions,  scientific  and  literary  publications.  In  other 
words,  the  State  has  to  be  lavish  with  all  manner  of  assistance, 
to  spend  freely  on  public  works  for  the  army  and  navy,  not 
because  it  benefits  them,  but  so  as  to  provide  work  for  a 
number  of  workers,  and  tofaire  marcher  les  affaires.  It  has, 
above  all,  to  make  debts  so  as  to  offer  a  safe  though  modest 
investment  to  the  savings  of  middle-class  families.  It  has  to 
maintain  intellectual  men  and  warriors.  It  has  to  be  the 
patron  of  genius  hidden  in  the  depths  of  misery,  giving 
artistic  and  scientific  education  at  an  absurdly  low  cost. 

Moreover,  this  administration  indirectly  serves  private 
interests.  By  means  of  its  custom-houses,  it  stops  at  the 
frontier  such  foreign  goods  as  would  render  competition  diffi- 
cult to  the  national  manufacturers.  Of  this  privilege  the 
French  Government  has  made  considerable  use,  more  par- 
ticularly during  the  last  ten  years,  with  the  special  object 
of  protecting  certain  industries  and  branches  of  agriculture 
from  a  depression  in  price.  Modern  civilization  is  admir- 
able, but  it  has  this  disadvantage,  that  wealth  is  extremely 
precarious.  A  permanent  and  definitive  debasement  in  value 
was  once  a  slow  historical  event  which  followed  at  the 
distance  of  centuries,  nowadays  the  most  formidable 
variations  incessantly  occur,  entailing  the  destruction  of 
established  fortunes  and  the  creation  of  new  ones.  But  in  a 
society  where  the  spirit  of  protection  is  strong,  where  ^/ 
individual  energies  are  restrained  by  many  bonds,  a  certain 
stability  of  fortune  is  desired  and  demanded  of  the  Govern- 
ment, as  one  of  the  many  forms  of  its  protection.  Such,  at 
least  in  part,  is  the  aim  of  protectionism  in  France. 


210  MILITARISM 


III 

When  this  is  admitted  we  can  clearly  understand  how  it  is 
that  the  Jacobin  State  is  the  government  of  a  minority.  Its 
function  was  to  assure  to  France,  by  means  of  a  vast 
protective  system,  an  intellectual  liberty  in  opposition  to 
/,/ spiritual  tyranny,  and  a  political  freedom  from  the  abuses 
of  an  absolute  monarchy.  It  therefore  freed  writers  and 
thinkers  from  a  large  portion  of  those  perils  that  threatened 
them  from  a  jealous  ecclesiastical  censorship,  it  accorded  a 
fair  freedom  of  the  press,  and  scientific  education. 

But  to  do  this,  the  work  of  the  Jacobin  State  had  necessarily 
to  be  aristocratic.  The  uneducated  majority,  occupied  only 
with  money- making,  did  not  care  about  intellectual  liberty, 
which,  moreover,  appeared  impious  and  dangerous  to  those 
who  had  been  most  influenced  by  the  restricted  education 
of  the  Church.  These  naturally  regarded  an  authoritative 
scheme  of  official  belief  as  a  salutary  system  rather  than  a 
regime  of  liberty  and  discussion. 

Moreover,  the  vast  protective  system  exercised  by  the 
Jacobin  State  for  the  benefit  of  the  middle  class  was 
necessarily  oligarchical.  Such  a  protection  can  satisfy  a 
certain  number  on  one  condition  only :  that  it  takes  little  in 
taxation  from  a  large  number,  and  that  it  confer  great  favours 
on  a  few.  Thus  it  compels  the  majority  to  contribute  to  the 
well-being  of  a  minority,  which  latter  alone  is  really  interested 
in  the  maintenance  of  the  regime.  There  is  always  an  upper- 
class  minority  which  receives  more  than  it  contributes,  and 
another  class  which  receives  less  than  it  contributes,  that  is 
the  majority  of  workers  and  the  lower  bourgeoisie.  Now,  it 
is  clear  that  such  a  state  of  things  can  only  exist  on  one 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      2  1 1 

condition,  i.e.  that  authority  be  in  the  power  of  a  minority  which 
avails  itself  of  this  vast  system  of  protection,  and  feels  the 
necessity  for  intellectual  liberty.  This  singular  combination 
led  the  Jacobin  State  into  another  self-contradiction  when  it 
wished  to  fulfil  the  second  promise  made  to  the  French 
people,  that  of  conferring  on  it  political  liberty.  According 
to  their  formula  the  majority  was  to  rule,  and  yet  it  had  to 
serve  a  minority  which  it  entrusted  with  power.  In  order  to 
escape  from  this  contradiction,  the  Jacobin  State  imagined  a 
thousand  expedients  by  whose  means  it  eluded  the  political 
formula  which  gave  it  birth.  Indeed,  a  great  part  of  the 
political  ability  of  France  has  been  thus  expended  during  our 
century. 

Every  few  years,  all  adult  males  are  called  upon  to  elect 
members  for  the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  By  means  of  this 
legislative  assembly  the  majority  might  express  and  enforce 
its  will — it  might,  that  is,  if  practical  possibility  corresponded 
to  theoretical.  But  such  is  not  the  case,  for  many  reasons,  and 
primarily  on  account  of  the  party  divisions,  which  are  such 
as  to  always  ensure  rule  to  the  minority,  under  one  form  or 
another.  The  men  who  take  part  in  French  electoral 
struggles  all  belong  to  the  category  of  those  who  divide 
public  wealth,  or  at  least  electoral  contests  are  conducted  as 
though  these  only  were  concerned.  French  party  contests 
are  not  waged  with  a  view  to  affirm  with  precision  the  desire 
of  the  majority,  they  consist  of  cliques  and  coteries  who  dis- 
pute the  favours  of  State  protection.  Between  Opportunists 
and  Radicals  the  only  real  difference  is  this :  that  the 
Opportunists  have  a  programme  for  aristocratic  protection 
in  favour  of  the  higher  bourgeoisie  that  shall  promote 
the  interests  of  a  small  class  of  wealthy  financiers,  while 
the  Radical  programme  favours  the  lower  bourgeoisie  of 


2  I  2  MILITARISM 

shopkeepers,  small  landowners,  and  even,  to  a  certain  extent, 
the  workers.  The  former  party  desires  to  cut  huge  slices 
out  of  the  public  cake  to  satisfy  a  few  ravenous  appetites, 
the  latter  would  divide  it  into  a  number  of  small  biscuits  to 
distribute  among  the  crowd.  There  are  rarely  found  in  the 
Chamber  as  many  as  twenty  real  adversaries  who  oppose, 
not  the  system  by  which  the  cake  should  be  divided,  but  any 
division  at  all  of  a  toothsome  morsel  made  of  flour  stolen 
from  the  workers'  mill.  A  few  exist  among  the  Socialists,  but 
these  are  timid  and  uncertain,  entangled  in  an  indissoluble 
contradiction  which  they  fail  to  notice,  because  at  one 
moment  they  oppose  protectionism  as  unjust  and  tyrannical, 
and  then  incline  to  test  the  extreme  absurdity  of  the  system 
by  applying  it  to  the  working  multitudes,  thus  inventing 
proletarian  Caesarism. 

Thus  political  contests  in  France  consist  in  the  infernal 
clamour  of  a  thousand  competitors,  who  crowd  around  the 
public  banquet,  fighting  and  scrambling  to  get  their  share. 
Those  who  reach  the  feast  first  gorge  ravenously,  while 
occasionally  flinging  a  few  crumbs  to  the  crowd  to  keep  them 
quiet.  The  competitors  in  parliamentary,  senatorial,  municipal, 
or  county  elections  vie  with  one  another  in  making  promises 
that  shall  procure  them  public  favour  and  votes.  One  man 
promises  his  most  ardent  partisans  one  of  those  positions 
that  carry  with  them  neither  heavy  work  or  responsibility,  of 
which  there  are  so  many  in  the  French  bureaucracy.  Another 
pledges  Government  support  to  some  declining  local  industry. 
A  third  promises  to  classify  the  local  tobaccos  among  the 
most  expensive  qualities.  Yet  another  promises  a  school  or 
railway  to  his  electors,  while  all  try  to  get  into  favour  by 
rendering  such  small  services  as  exemptions  from  fines, 
decorations,  the  remission  of  small  penalties,  i.e.  by  distributing 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      213 

among  the  mass  those  crumbs  which  remain  over  from  the 
feasts  of  Caesarism. 

The  majority  of  the  people — that  is  to  say,  those  who  pro- 
vide the  banquet — are  unable  even  to  approach  it.    But,  owing 
to  the  fact  that  they  are  dispersed,  disunited,  unconscious  of 
their  ills,  and  often  ignorant,  they  can  do  little  against  a 
well-organized  and  active  minority.      As  a   Frenchman  on 
entering  the  world  finds  the  State  ready  constituted,  so  also 
he   finds   ready  made  the  various  factions  who  dispute  the 
enjoyment  of  its  protection.      No  party  exists  to  represent 
his  confused  desire  to  be  less  exploited  by  the  State.     Of 
what  use,  then,  is  the  right  to  vote  at  elections  if,  amongst  all 
the  candidates  who  solicit  his  favour,  he  cannot  find  one  to 
express  his  thoughts  and  wishes  ?     All  those  who  suffer  from 
this  method  of  government  should  come  to  a  mutual  under- 
standing, unite  together  to  found  new  parties,  and  seek  for  new 
men  to  rule  them.     An  understanding  and  union,  however, 
is  difficult  between  so  many  people  scattered  all  over  France, 
between  whom,  moreover,  there  exists  such  wide  differences  of 
education  and  social  position,  differences  which  the  unceasing 
and  cunning  conduct  of  the  administration  tends  to  increase. 

Besides  the  task  of  maintaining  order,  the  Government  has 
another  more  important  duty  to  fulfil  :  that  of  rendering 
universal  suffrage  a  harmless  toy  in  the  people's  hands.  This 
weapon  it  was,  by  force  of  circumstances,  compelled  to  give 
to  the  populace,  as  you  give  a  child  a  toy  pistol  to  quiet  him. 
It  uses  all  manner  of  devices  to  attain  this  object.  For 
this  end  there  exists  a  distinctly  political  body,  served  by 
prefects  and  sub-prefects,  and  aided  by  the  executive.  Pre- 
fects and  sub-prefects  are  scattered  in  all  French  towns, 
and  are  most  especially  charged  with  the  organizing  of 
electoral  cabals,  to  render  impossible  the  growth  of  any  real 


214  MILITARISM 

party  of  reform,  and  to  maintain  and,  if  possible,  increase  their 
disunion.  By  all  methods  of  corruption  they  successfully 
bamboozle  the  working-men  and  middle-class  associations. 
They  keep  a  keen  eye  on  the  local  authorities  ;  they  curry 
favour  with  rich  proprietors,  manufacturers,  and  well-to-do 
people  in  general ;  they  disperse  decorations,  promise  favours, 
judiciously  regulate  the  pressure  of  certain  fiscal  laws.  By 
such  means  they  seek  to  win  over  the  electors,  and  to  induce 
the  majority  to  elect,  now  an  Opportunist,  now  a  rallie,  now  a 
Radical,  in  accordance  with  instructions  received  from  Paris. 
These  Government  candidates  are,  of  course,  men  favourable 
to  the  traditional  politico-administrative  system,  and  prepared 
to  exploit  in  favour  of  those  who  contribute  to  their  victory. 
The  prefects  generally  meet  with  success  because  the  chief 
article  of  this  electoral  Machiavellism  is  very  simple  and 
practically  infallible :  that  of  blinding  a  man  to  the  universal 
^  interest,  which  is,  of  course,  indirectly  his  own,  in  view  of  some 
direct  and  immediate  benefit.  Men  generally  fall  into  this  trap. 
Hence  manufacturers,  merchants,  and  landowners  allow  them- 
selves to  be  enticed  by  a  decoration,  or  some  frail  promise  to 
favour  a  policy,  which,  by  gradually  augmenting  taxation 
throughout  the  country,  must  ultimately  lead  to  their  ruin. 

To   intrigue   and   corruption,   in    extreme   cases,  force   is 
added,  the  force  of  a  huge  army,  as  useful  for  internal  repres- 
sion as  for   foreign   wars ;    and   which   has,  on    more   than 
one   occasion,  saved   the  Jacobin    State   from   outbursts   of 
national  fury.     The  Commune  forms  an  instance.    This  fell  a 
victim,  not  to  the  capitalist  bourgeoisie,  but  to  administrative 
^Csesarism.     It  was  crushed  down  so  ferociously,  not  because 
it   aimed   at   abolishing   private   property,   but    because    it 
favoured  a  federalist  movement  which  would  by  centralization 
w    \/  have  destroyed  the  nucleus  of  the  Jacobin  State. 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      215 


IV 

But  nowadays  the  possession  of  arms  and  money  does  not 
suffice,  a  Government  must  also  have  a  moral  basis  founded 
on  some  popular  sentiment,  The  French  Jacobin  State  has, 
therefore,  sought  to  impress  the  people  with  an  almost  mysti- 
cal idea  of  its  own  power  and  greatness,  and  to  persuade 
them  that  it  is  the  strongest,  most  infallible,  and  invincible  of 
all  Governments. 

We  have  already  observed  that  man's  greatest  source  of 
pleasure  consists  in  the  consciousness  of  his  own  superiority. 
Personal  pleasures  originate  in  a  sense  of  our  own  individual 
worth,  collective  ones  in  a  belief  in  the  superiority  of  the 
society  to  which  we  belong.  This  latter  satisfaction  is 
stronger  in  inferior  men.  The  enjoyment  of  collective  superi- 
ority is,  in  short,  a  species  of  recompense  to  the  mediocre 
crowd,  and  this  explains  its  universal  prevalence.  The 
scholars  of  one  school  consider  themselves  superior  to  those 
of  another  ;  the  soldiers  of  one  army  to  those  of  their 
rivals ;  the  members  of  one  class  or  profession  to  those  of 
another. 

Patriotism,  in  some  cases,  arises  from  a  similar  sentiment. 
French  patriotism,  in  fact,  consists  in  the  complacent  belief 
that  France  is,  and  must  be,  the  greatest,  the  most  invincible 
European  nation,  that  is  destined  to  rule  the  rest.  This  belief, 
flattering  to  the  universal  vanity,  may  become  a  real  pleasure 
and  generate  that  sentiment  which  M.  Tarde — who  laments 
its  diminution  since  1870 — defines  as:  " Le sentiment  delicieux, 
intime,  presque  inconscient  a  force  d'etre  continu  et  profond, 
qui  etait  le  fond  de  1'etat  d'ame  de  tous  les  Frangais  avant  \$ 
1870;  la  foi  absolu  en  la  France,  en  son  hegemonic,  en  sav- 


2l6  MILITARISM 

mission  superieure  et  providentielle  "  (Figaro,  October  nth, 
1898). 

Now,  this  pleasant  sentiment  of  superiority  lover  other 
nations  resolves  itself  into  devotion  and  admiration  towards 
the  Government  that  maintains  it  by  its  arms  and  policy. 
The  majorities  may  be  discontented  with  the  Government 
for  its  impiety,  its  oligarchic  administration,  or  its  constant 
self-contradictions,  but  all  parties  indiscriminately  are  grateful 
to  it  as  the  author  and  custodian  of  this  national  moral 
superiority  over  other  countries.  From  this  point  of  view 
we  can  judge  the  vastness  of  the  service  Napoleon  rendered 
to  the  Jacobin  States,  because  from  that  extraordinary  epoch 
(\yof  war  and  victory  dates  that  general  passion  for  military  and 
/  political  greatness  which,  in  France,  is  such  a  precious  element 
of  administrative  stability. 

Hence  we  can  easily  understand  that  the-  Government  is 
interested  in  diffusing  and  feeding  this  passion  in  every 
manner,  and  principally  by  means  of  its  officials.  A  well- 
armed  Government,  generous,  amply  provided  with  money, 
which  shows  itself  even  when  commanding  half  a  million 
-^officials,  inspires  the  masses  with  respect  and  admiration. 

The  French  official  class,  more  especially  its  better-educated 
portion,  are  well  enabled  to  inspire  the  people  with  respect 
/  for  the  State.  In  small  towns  and  country  districts  the  sub- 
prefects  and  magistrates,  all  those  officials  who  possess  a* 
certain  grade  of  education  and  come  from  afar,  sent  by  the 
Invisible  which  rules  over  all,  to  represent  that  unmeasured 
thing  capable  of  doing  so  much  good  and  so  much  harm, 
appear  as  small  sovereigns,  more  particularly  to  the  bour- 
geoisie, who,  possessing  a  little,  have  more  to  expect  and 
more  to  fear  from  the  State.  Thus,  partly  from  the  genuine 
humility  of  the  weaker  towards  the  stronger,  partly  from 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      21  7 

servility  and  interestedness,  these  classes  easily  accept  as 
aphorisms  of  Supreme  Wisdom  the  political  ideas  circulated 
by  the  officials.  In  the  same  manner  much  of  a  priest's 
authority  is  not  personal,  but  the  result  of  the  accumulation 
and  growth  of  centuries. 

The  ideal  which  the  French  bureaucracy  represents,  and 
which  it  impresses  on  the  minds  of  the  middle  class,  is  that 
of  military  patriotism,  according  to  which  French  prosperity  C/ 
depends  on  its  military  power,  its  diplomatic  superiority, 
therefore  every  victory  or  the  conquest  of  any  territory  is  a 
happy  event  conducive  to  the  greatness  of  the  fatherland. 
The  French  military  and  civil  authorities  can  profess  the  most 
varied  religious  and  philosophical  theories.  They  may  call 
themselves  atheists  or  believers,  materialists  or  spiritualists, 
but  all  of  them,  under  whatsoever  political  regime,  under  the 
third  republic  as  under  the  first  and  second  Napoleonic 
empire,  are  bound  never  publicly  to  deny  this  ideal.  I  do 
not  affirm  that  they  all  believe  in  the  justice  of  these 
principles  as  in  gospel  truth.  Some  may  have  grown  so 
inured  to  them  as  to  regard  them  with  fanatical  faith, 
many  accept  them  passively,  for  love  of  peace  and  quiet, 
without  worrying  their  brains  to  analyze.  No  one,  however, 
dares  publicly  express  his  aversion  or  indulge  in  too  free  a 
criticism.  An  official  who,  in  writing  or  in  a  public  speech, 
1  maintains  that  the  military  honour  of  France  is  an  absurdity, 
and  the  military  policy  fatal  to  the  country,  would  be  evicted. 
Therefore  the  more  liberal  spirits  are  forced,  by  fear  of 
poverty,  to  keep  silence. 

Thus  the  French  executive,  even  to-day,  is  the  custodian  of    / 
the  bellicose  traditions  of  the  country,  just  as  the  clergy  is 
the  defender  of  its  faith.     It  is  assisted  by  many  auxiliary, 
literary,  religious,  political,  and  economical  influences,  which 


2l8  MILITARISM 

together  build  up  an  ingenious  system  of  mutual  intimidation 
that  works  admirably. 

Public  schools  are  carried  on  in  the  same  spirit.  The 
Jacobin  State  organized  its  educational  system  in  opposition 
to  that  of  the  Church,  making  of  it  a  tool  to  cultivate  the 
sentiment  of  the  politico-military  greatness  of  France.  These 
schools  are  mere  gymnasiums  where  youths  are  tired  out 
with  useless  fatigues  and  stupid  mnemonic  exercises  that 
only  result  in  procuring  the  ephemeral  glory  of  "  first-class 
certificates  "  to  a  few  boys  gifted  with  feeble  intellects  and 
good  memories.  But  French  schools,  by  way  of  recompense, 
foster  military  and  patriotic  enthusiasm.  All  the  chief  per- 
sonages of  French  military  history  are  paraded  before  the 
boys,  aggrandized  into  ideal  proportions :  Clovis,  Charle- 
magne, Bayard,  Louis  XIV.,  Napoleon.  The  great  events  of 
national  military  history  are  narrated  in  glowing  and  senti- 
mental language.  The  belief  in  national  and  military  great- 
ness is  fostered  in  every  way.  Indeed,  these  beliefs  are 
perhaps  the  only  ones  which  have  any  real  hold  on  the  minds 
of  modern  French  youths. 

Religion  collaborates  with  the  public  schools.  From  the 
village  pulpit  the  priest  preaches  to  the  peasants  concerning 
the  fatherland,  the  army,  the  honour  of  arms,  the  standards 
blessed  by  the  Almighty.  In  the  remotest  villages  of  the 
Alps  and  Pyrenees,  where  the  schoolmaster  possibly  would 
be  useless,  the  priest  penetrates,  sent  thither  by  the  State  to 
represent  religion,  on  condition  that  he  will  also  put  in  a  good 
wcrd  for  the  military  greatness  of  France. 

The  most  perfect  side  of  this  subtle  and  varying  work  of 
propaganda  is  to  be  found  in  the  system  of  mutual  intimidation, 
thanks  to  which  the  most  thoughtful  men  are  prevented  from 
rebelling  against  the  tyranny  of  absurd  military  prejudices. 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      2ig 

The  patriotism  of  the  cultured  classes  in  France  resembles, 
to  a  certain  degree,  those  walls  in  which  the  bricks  support 
one  another  without  cement ;  or,  if  you  prefer,  a  prison 
in  which  every  one  is  in  turn  the  gaoler  of  his  neigh- 
bour on  the  left,  and  the  prisoner  of  the  one  on  the  right. 
Many  Frenchmen  are  intimately  persuaded  that  much  of  this 
high-flown  patriotic  agitation  is  mere  bluster,  nor  could  it  be 
otherwise,  as  prepossession  has  been  pushed  to  the  extreme 
of  absurdity.  A  recent  event  furnishes  an  example : — The 
Madagascar  expedition  cost  the  nation  ^"5,000,000,  and  the 
lives  of  5000  soldiers,  raised  by  conscription  and  sent  there 
by  force.  How  was  it  possible  that  several  deputies — and 
I  have  known  many  who  admitted  it  in  private  conversation 
— should  not  regard  as  insane  such  waste  of  life  and  money 
for  the  conquest  of  an  island  whose  only  use  would  be  to 
institute  new  expensive  bureaucratic  sinecures,  and  which 
commercially  would  be  exploited  by  Englishmen  and  Ger- 
mans ?  And  yet,  in  this  small  matter,  as  in  many  more  im- 
portant ones,  no  one  dared  to  declare  openly  that  the  talk 
about  the  honour  of  the  French  standard  in  Madagascar  was 
absurd,  and  that  the  first  duty  of  a  Government  is  to  waste 
neither  men  nor  money.  Thus  it  always  happens,  in  matters 
where  the  traditional  ideals  of  French  military  glory  are  con- 
cerned, many  persons  are  more  or  less  conscious  of  the  same 
opinion,  but  each  would  be  ready  to  stone  for  his  boldness 
any  one  who  dared  proclaim  the  truth  hidden  at  the  bottom 
of  every  one's  mind.  Were  this  audacious  spirit  a  journalist, 
he  would  find  his  readers  rapidly  diminish  ;  were  he  a  deputy 
he  could  never  again  speak  in  public  ;  a  university  professor 
would  be  ruined,  an  independent  literary  man  would  never 
enter  the  Academy.  French  public  opinion  is  ferocious 
against  the  crimes  of  Ihe-patriotisme,  and  the  Press,  which 


220  MILITARISM 

understands  this,  and  speculates  on  the  most  ardent  passions 
of  the  human  heart,  occasionally  goes  in  for  wild  outbursts  of 
patriotism,  which  so  excite  the  public  that  they  positively 
lynch — metaphorically  speaking — all  those  suspected  of  little 
or  no  patriotism. 

Thus  it  happens  that  journalists,  officials,  scientists,  and 
literary  men,  volens  nolens,  all  live  in  terror  of  the  threatened 
anger  of  the  public,  and  are  compelled  to  become  the  accom- 
plices of  this  colossal  military-territorial  delusion  which  is 
hurrying  France  to  its  ruin.  The  revolutionist  Rochefort 
is  as  great  a  "jingo"  as  the  imperialist  Cassagnac ;  the 
socialist  municipality  of  Paris  is  forced  to  receive  the  Czar  ; 
Pasteur  has  to  refuse  a  title  of  honour  from  the  Emperor  of 
Germany  ;  Ferry  becomes  the  object  of  universal  detestation 
from  the  day  he  is  suspected  of  wishing  to  reconcile  France 
with  Germany.  The  sincere  fanatics  for  revenge  are  few, 
because  all  know  in  their  heart  of  hearts  that  war  with 
Germany  would  have  disastrous  results  for  European  civiliza- 
tion. And  yet,  how  many  years  will  pass  before  any  of  the 
parties  which  come  into  power  will  publicly  renounce  this 
idea,  and  set  Europe  at  peace? — a  universal  and  fatal  error 
in  which  all  mutually  imprison  one  another,  from  which  all 
would  be  only  too  happy  to  escape. 


V 

Thus  the  cultured  classes,  if  not  the  whole  nation,  accept 
in  silence  these  ideals  which  correspond  so  ill  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  age,  and  consequently  military  traditions  are 
transmitted  from  generation  to  generation,  and  fossilized 
into  integral  parts  of  the  administration.  We  have  seen  that 
the  majority  does  not  and  cannot  rule  in  France  ;  that  the 


MILITARISM  AND  C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE    121 

various  coteries  and  small  minorities,  who  from  time  to  time 
come  into  power,  take  no  trouble  to  reform  the  Government. 
The  only  aim  of  a  ministry  is  to  satisfy  the  "clients "  which 
raised  it  to  power.  All  the  rest,  the  reform  of  abuses  and 
so  forth,  except  what  is  brought  about  by  the  force  of  cir^ 
cumstances,  is  treated  by  the  various  Governments  with  a 
very  Mussulman  indifference.  As  a  general  rule,  the  more 
unjust  the  constitution  of  a  Government,  the  greater  its  need  ^ 
to  emphasize  some  ideal  to  play  on,  some  disinterested  and 
altruistic  passion  of  the  human  heart.  In  our  day,  the  Govern- 
ment which,  more  than  any  other,  depends  on  an  ideal  is  the  -r~ 
Turkish.  Why  are  its  officials  and  soldiers  ready  to  die 
heroically  wherever  the  caprice  of  a  foolish  Government 
chooses  to  send  them  ?  Not  for  any  consideration  of  personal 
gain,  certainly,  for  the  Government  lets  them  hunger  twelve 
months  a  year,  ill-treats  and  oppresses  them,  but  out  of 
devotion  to  their  religious  beliefs.  Is  anything  found  to 
equal  the  barbarous  but  infinite  heroism^which  the  Turkish 
Government  livesjn  the  Swiss  regime  ?  In  comparison  with 
the  Turkish  Government,  that  of  Switzerland  is  a  prosaic 
company  of  tradesmen  ;  its  virtues  consist  in  pedantry,  in  an 
orderly  and  economic  spirit,  in  the  subordination  of  every- 
thing to  saving.  Nor  should  this  surprise  any  person  who 
well  considers  the  question.  The  unjuster  a  Government, 
the  more  it  has  to  fear  from  the  resistance  or  aversion  of  its 
subjects.  If  it  can  manage  to  inspire  its  victims  with  some 
generous  passion,  and  ingeniously  connect  itself  therewith, 
then  it  frequently  succeeds  in  gaining  the  affection  of  those 
it  oppresses.  Throughout  history  an  ideal  has  mostly 
the  sentinel  of  injustice. 

Owing  to  an  analogous  phenomenon,  the  satisfaction  of  this 
sentiment  of  national  pride  has,  in  normal  times,  diminished 


222  MILITARISM 

in  France,  and  obscured  any  feeling  of  aversion  or  discontent 
towards  the  Government.  Political  parties  have  always 
availed  themselves  of  this  public  passion  for  military  glory 
as  a  cover  for  their  injustices  and  errors.  Napoleon  III. 
managed  for  eighteen  years  to  popularize  his  government 
by  continued  fortunate  military  expeditions,  for  which  he 
found  opportunities  and  pretexts  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe, 
in  China,  Germany,  and  Mexico.  Under  the  present  Re- 
public the  various  parties  try  to  animate  the  people  by  visions 
of  colonial  trophies.  When  General  Duchene  disembarked 
at  Marseilles,  on  his  return  from  Madagascar,  where  he  had 
waged  a  greater  struggle  against  malarial  fever  than  against 
any  troops,  the  socialist  mayor  of  the  town  went  to  meet  him, 
made  a  complimentary  speech,  and  thanked  him  as  a  bene- 
factor of  his  country.  General  Dodds,  who  conquered  the 
King  of  Dahomy,  met  with  an  absolutely  triumphant  recep- 
tion from  the  Parisians.  But  the  strongest  proof  of  the 
strength  of  French  bellicose  sentiments  is  found  in  the  attitude 
of  the  socialists  who,  in  their  war  against  militarism,  display 
none  of  the  violence  shown  by  socialists  in  other  lands.  I 
remember  attending  a  meeting  of  the  Association  of  Rail- 
road Workers,  men  who  are  nearly  all  socialists,  presided 
over  by  the  socialist  deputy,  Claude  Hugues,  that  was  held 
to  protest  against  a  law,  approved  of  by  the  Senate,  which 
prohibited  railway  employes  from  forming  themselves  into 
syndicates.  The  chief  complaint  was  that  one  of  the  principal 
motives  in  favour  of  the  law  was  this :  that  permitting  the 
railway  men  to  associate  would  facilitate  strikes,  and  that  these 
would  offer  a  favourable  opportunity  to  some  hostile  nation 
to  declare  war  against  France.  All  the  orators  expressed 
their  indignation  at  the  idea  that  any  one  could  believe  them 
capable  of  continuing  a  strike  after  the  outbreak  of  war ; 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SAR1SM  IN  FRANCE      1 


that  the  railway  men,  as  Hugues  put  it,  would  not  have 
failed  in  the  performance  of  their  duty  "under  the  fire  of 
German  cannons."  In  the  project  for  a  general  strike,  pre- 
pared by  an  association  of  railway  employes,  was  included 
a  clause  which  became  the  object  of  considerable  jocularity 
in  the  conservative  press,  but  which  was  very  characteristic. 
It  proposed  that  a  member  of  the  strike  executive  should 
place  himself  in  direct  communication  with  the  minister 
of  war,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  orders  for  the  immediate 
termination  of  the  strike  as  soon  as  the  necessities  of 
national  defence  demanded  it. 


VI 

But  European  society  is  changing  with  the  times.     Thus, 
also,  French  militarism  must  of  necessity  alter  its  character,  ^  \ 
and,  above  all,  modify  itself. 

Herein  lies  all  the  significance  of  the  colonial  policy  in- 
augurated in  France  since  1870,  at  enormous  expense,  chiefly 
through  the  influence  of  Ferry.  What  a  difference  from  the 
English  colonial  policy! — that  is,  the  colonization  of  Sancho^ 
Panza :  a  commercial  colonization  entered  upon  prudently 
and  by  degrees,  with  the  object  of  getting  buffeted  about  as 
little  as  possible.  The  French  policy  is  that  of  Don  Quixote,  v 
all  for  military  glory,  without  any  thought  for  vulgar 
material  interests.  The  French  colonial  policy  signifies  this  : 
the  executive  realizes  that  the  age  of  great  military  under- 
takings is  now  for  ever  past  in  Europe.  It  therefore  tries  to 
perpetuate  the  glory  of  its  arms  in  Asia  and  Africa.  The  war 
of  1870,  the  downfall  of  Napoleonism,  and  the  altered  condition 
of  European  politics,  rendered  wars  in  Europe  impossible  to 
the  Jacobin  State,  which  always — but  more  particularly  under 


224  MILITARISM 

the  two  Napoleonic  Empires — had  mixed  itself  up  in  all 
European  conflicts,  and  had  even  sought  after  more  distant 
ones  in  Algiers,  the  Crimea,  Mexico,  and  China.  To-day  the 
military  spirit,  still  so  prevalent  in  France,  seeks  satisfac- 
tion in  colonial  expeditions,  by  whose  means  officers,  generals, 
and  all  the  military  unemployed  are  able  to  practise  the  skill 
which  in  Europe  finds  no  scope.  How  can  we  otherwise 
account  for  the  absurdity  of  this  policy  ?  France,  of  all 
countries,  has  the  least  necessity  to  found  colonies.  Her 
population  steadily  decreases ;  so  that,  instead  of  requiring 
fresh  territories  for  emigration,  it  possesses  them  for  im- 
migration. The  character  of  the  people,  as  moulded  by  the 
long-standing  traditions  of  French  civilization,  is  suited 
rather  to  the  exploitation  of  ready  formed  civilization,  by 
means  of  its  commerce  and  luxurious  trades,  than  to  the 
cultivation  of  fresh  lands.  A  Frenchman  is  much  better 
adapted  to  sell  champagne,  fashion-books,  and  perfumes 
to  the  rich  of  a  refined  society,  than  to  burn  down  the 
virgin  forests  of  desert  continents  or  construct  railways 
across  marshes  inhabited  by  serpents  and  crocodiles  who 
devour  the  engineers.  New  York  and  St.  Petersburg  render 
far  more  to  French  commerce  than  all  its  enormous  colonial 
empire  which  took  such  long  years  to  create. 

In  short,  all  the  French  colonies  are  the  last  efforts  of  an 
antiquated  militarism.  They  are  undertakings  of  administra- 
tive exploitation,  which  cost  men  and  millions  to  the  nation, 
and  only  enrich  or  give  social  power  to  a  few  officials,  specu- 
lators and  adventurers.  French  colonies  merely  serve  to 
augment  lucrative  bureaucratic  posts,  to  create  a  movement  of 
fictitious  affairs,  under  the  form  of  financial  undertakings  (rail- 
ways, navigation,  etc.)  subsidized  and  guaranteed  by  the  State, 
whose  profits  are  derived,  not  from  the  colony  but  from  the 


MILITARISM  AND    C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      22$ 

national  treasury.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  French  Govern- 
ment, after  the  conquest  of  Madagascar,  was  the  despatch  of  a 
numerous  body  of  officials.  The  sick  and  wounded  from  the 
terrible  expedition  of  1895  still  crowded  the  hospitals,  when, 
by  decree  dated  December  3Oth,  1895,  the  Government  con- 
stituted at  Tananarive  a  court  of  appeal,  and  appointed 
counsellors,  although  it  was  not  yet  known  what  law  ruled 
in  the  country,  whether  the  French  or  that  of  the  island. 
Inspectors  of  the  French  schools  were  appointed  before 
these  schools  existed.  Such  is  the  nature  of  all  the  profits 
made  by  the  French  Government  out  of  its  colonial  policy, 
a  fruit  of  the  military  traditions  that  have  survived  from 
the  monarchy  that  existed  prior  to  the  Revolution,  right 
through  the  two  Napoleonic  Empires,  until  our  own  time, 


VII 

Certainly  this  curious  mixture  of  democracy  and  militarism, 
of  republican  institutions  and  imperialist  ideas,  is  most 
original,  and  is  a  proof  of  great  national  strength,  despite  of, 
I  might  almost  say  by  reason  of,  its  absurdity,  because  absurd 
institutions  are  those  which  maintain  themselves  with  the 
greatest  energy. 

This  system  has  several  grave  defects,  partly  proper  to  it 
and  partly  inherent  to  all  Governments  based  on  protection/^- 
Amongst  these,  the  most  important  is  the  indifference  of  the 
majority  to  public  affairs,  their  sullen  hostility  towards  the 
State,  in  which  the  better  part  see  only  a  foe  and  an  oppressor. 
Outside  France,  the  ardour  of  her  political  contests  appear 
extraordinarily  active,  because  they  are  generally  very  violent ; 
but  their  violence  prevents  us  from  perceiving  the  indifference 
of  the  majority,  their  lack  of  enthusiasm  for  the  men  who 

P 


226  MILITARISM 

wage  them,  their  disinclination  to  take  any  active  part. 
Social  egoism  is  intense  in  France,  not  only  among  the 
ignorant  masses,  but  also  among  the  richer  and  educated 
class,  who,  in  sharp  distinction  from  this  class  in  England, 
regard  politics  as  a  vulgar  and  dirty  business  to  be  left 
strictly  to  ambitious  men  and  demagogues,  or  at  the  very 
best  as  an  amusing  spectacle  by  reason  of  its  bizarrerie  and 
extravagance. 

This  is  the  inevitable  result  of  the  vast  protection  exercised 
by  the  State  over  the  bourgeoisie,  whereby  the  Government 
awards  this  class  the  temptation,  or  places  it  under  the 
necessity  of  living  on  public  employments.  A  class  cannot 
both  serve  and  control  a  Government.  The  Jacobin  State, 
by  protecting  with  so  many  favours  the  middle  class,  divides 
and  weakens  the  moral  strength  which  this  class  would 
possess  were  it  independent,  reducing  it  to  petty  family 
interests,  because  every  family  is  seduced  into  availing  itself 
of  the  largest  possible  share  of  State  favours.  Politics,  in 
short,  take  the  shape  of  family  interests.  In  this  respect 
Catholic  education  has  been  of  service  to  the  Jacobin  State, 
because  this  system  was  elaborated  for  centuries  as  the  best 
means  of  preparing  men  to  receive  Church  favours.  Thus  it 
has,  with  certain  modifications,  also  prepared  them  to  receive 
JL  those  of  the  Government.  Catholic  education  aims  at  the 
suppression  of  personality,  at  the  development  of  docility, 
timidity,  and  reserve,  encouraging  selfishness  and  a  dislike  of 
taking  trouble,  qualities  which  are  all  more  suited  to  a  class 
of  officials  who  regard  the  State  as  father  and  master,  than 
to  strong  and  energetic  political  men.  Moreover,  Catholicism 
gives  great  power  to  women  in  family  life.  It  constitutes  the 
family  on  authoritarian  and  selfish  principles,  and  encourages 
the  idea  that  politics  are  merely  a  field  for  the  promotion  of 


MILITARISM  AND   ClESARISM  IN  FRANCE      22*J 

Js 
private  and  family  interests.     This  is  more  particularly   the 

policy   of  women   in  Latin   countries.      These   exert   great 
influence  in  the  French  middle-class  family,  perhaps  of  all 
the  most  authoritarianly  constituted,  so  that  France  is  more  u 
under  petticoat  government  than  any  other  European  land. 

There  are  a  great  number  of  intelligent  and  cultured  men 
in  the  bureaucracy  who  are  thus  unable  to  take  any  part  in 
politics  or  exercise  any  influence  on  public  opinion.-  Hence 
the  sentiment  of  social  solidarity  is  feeble  in  France,  public  \^ 
opinion  passive  and  inert.  And  this  is  one  of  the  reasons 
why  political  struggles  are  so  fierce,  for  a  man  who  wishes  to 
influence  public  opinion  knows  what  a  heavy  weight  he  has 
got  to  move,  and  realizes  that  he  must  use  strong  measures. 
France  is  rather  like  a  bull  before  whose  eyes  we  must  wave 
a  flaming  flag  in  order  to  excite  him.  The  hatred  of  Jews,  of 
Italians,  of  English  or  some  similar  class,  the  panic  of  spies 
or  fear  of  revolution :  all  these  matters  tend  to  keep  more 
refined  men  from  mixing  themselves  up  with  politics.  It  is 
not  every  one  who  cares  for  this  trade  of  exciting  the  bull 
with  red  rags,  as  also  there  are  many  who  do  not  care  for  the 
office  of  agent  of  favours,  of  which  a  French  political  career 
consists.  No  deputy  or  minister  can  long  retain  the  good- 
will of  the  public  if  he  does  not  manage  to  procure  many 
Government  favours  for  his  partisans  and  entourage,  a  business 
in  which  mediocre  men  frequently  make  a  great  success,  but 
in  which  men  of  intelligence  fail.  Thus  the  political  class  is 
of  the  commonest  order,  and  consists  of  men  with  slight 
culture  and  of  a  low  moral  standard. 

This  leads  to  another  evil :  the  bureaucracy  are  too  powerful 
and  not  sufficiently  plastic.  It  is  composed  of  ill-paid 
officials,  who  as  a  recompense  receive  life  appointments. 
Each  possesses  a  certain  degree  of  protective  influence,  and 


228  MILITARISM 

many  of  the  higher  are  able  to  place  their  own  caprices 
before  the  public  welfare,  retain  positions  to  which  they  are 
not  suited,  oppose  reforms  which  for  some  reason  or  other 
they  do  not  approve.-  The  ministers,  who  are  at  the  head  of  the 
bureaucracy,  ought  to  insist  on  the  executive  serving  France, 
not  France  the  executive  ;  they  ought,  in  short,  to  temper  and 
control  faction  spirit,  known  in  France  under  the  name  of 
mandarinism.  But  the  ministers  are,  for  the  better  part, 
commonplace  men,  political  intriguers  of  little  importance 
and  limited  education — at  the  best  they  are  elegant  writers 
and  orators,  not  intelligent  men  of  action  made  to  rule. 
What  authority  can  they  have  over  the  administration,  com- 
posed of  fixed  officials,  who  know  all  its  mechanism,  and 
have  been  for  years  the  centre  of  influence  and  favours  ? 
__.The  executive  is  the  real  master  of  France.  The  ministers 
have  no  power  over  it,  and  have  to  content  themselves 
with  being  responsible  before  the  public  for  all  its  errors. 
Above  all,  the  heads  of  a  popular  administration,  such  as  the 
army,  are  all-powerful ;  no  ministers  could  ever  prevent  them 
from-  doing  as  they  chose. 

Thus,  contrary  as  it  is  to  the  general  belief,  the  greatest 
defect  of  the  French  social  system  lies  in  conservatism.  The 
European  public  sees  the  French  Ministry  change  with 
bewildering  frequency ;  they  hear  statistical  dilettantes  repeat 
that  the  average  duration  of  a  French  administration  is 
eight  months  and  sixteen  days,  that  from  the  4th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1870,  to  the  end  of  1897,  thirty-seven  ministries 
followed  one  another  ;  and  they  conclude  that  all  continuity 
and  seriousness  is  lacking  in  the  French  Government.  But 
the  mutability  of  the  ministry  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  guarantee 
of  the  immobility  of  the  routine  whereby  France  is  governed. 
France  is  the  most  conservatively  governed  land  in  Europe, 


MILITARISM  AND    C.fcSARlSM  IN  FRANCE      $29 

because  the  ministries,  by  remaining  in  power  for  such  a  short 
period  at  a  stretch,  have  no  chance  of  altering  or  modifying 
the  methods  and  traditions  of  the  bureaucracy.  What  could 
the  most  energetic  of  ministers  do?  He" arrives  and  studies, 
but  no  sooner  does  he  begin  to  understand  the  nature  of  the 
executive  which  he  has  to  direct  than  he  is  dismissed.  The 
reforms  of  public  services  are  generally  only  possible  when 
the  bureaucracy  itself  wakes  up  to  their  necessity.  The 
initiative  is  generally  given  by  the  permanent  officials  of  t 
ministry,  not  by  the  ministers  themselves. 

A  third  drawback  to  the  Jacobin   State  is   the  alarming    "j 
destruction  of  wealth  it  entails  ;  its  military  policy,  which  is     / 
its   outcome,   costs   millions   to   the  nation.     Moreover,  the 
executive  is  anything  but  thrifty ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  ex- 
travagant and  wasteful.    The  balance  sheet  of  a  Jacobin  State 
normally  shows  a  deficit,  whose  necessary  consequence   is 
the  continual  increase  of  taxes  and  the  national  debts,  the 
slow  or  rapid  impoverishment  of  the  country. 

In  short,  and  this  is  where  chance  is  the  greatest  evil,  the 
Jacobin  State  constantly  wears  itself  out  in  self-contradictions 
which  augment  the  number  of  its  enemies.  It  is  composed  of 
an  official  class  abounding  in  clever  but  ill-guided  men,  and  of  (/ 
a  body  of  politicians  of  mediocre  worth.  Before  all  else, 
these  all  have  to  uphold  their  power  as  a  minority,  in 
opposition  to  the  majority,  and  then  satisfy  as  best  they  can 
the  various  parties,  insuring  intellectual  and  political  liberty 
to  the  liberal  minority.  They  have  to  make  the  Catholic 
population  forget  their  impiety,  by  distributing  money 
favours  ;  they  have  to  keep  the  people  contented,  and  satisfy 
the  universal  military  patriotism,  which  is  the  soul  of  the 
French  Government.  We  can  easily  understand  how  these 
efforts  result  in  contenting  no  one. 


230  MILITARISM 

And  so  it  happens  that,  under  the  sway  of  whatever  Govern- 
ment France  may  be,  the  true  nature  of  its  political  system 
is  always  Caesarism — that  is,  a  universally  protective,  prodigal, 
and  warlike  state.  The  republic  may  attenuate  the  Caesarism 
of  the  second  empire,  it  cannot  abolish  it.  It,  too,  is  prodigal 
of  public  money  to  give  to  the  people,  in  a  more  refined  and 
civilized  form  panem  et  cirsenses.  It  also  is  ambitious  for 
trophies,  not  from  Europe,  but  Africa.  It  also  is  weakened 
by  the  military  oligarchy,  which  devour  thousands  upon 
thousands  in  an  administration  which  is  almost  irresponsible. 

In  short,  the  evil  of  evils  is  that  the  Jacobin  State  appears 
too  liberal  to  the  Catholics,  too  authoritarian  to  the  Liberals. 
The  first  consider  it  impious  that  the  crucifix  should  be 
removed  from  the  schools,  nuns  from  the  hospitals,  and 
that  the  publication  of  books  which  deride  human  and  divine 
authority  should  be  countenanced.  The  others  consider  as 
tyrannical  a  state  where  free  principles  are  professed  rather 
than  practised,  where  the  highest  ministerial  officials  enjoy 
almost  uncontrolled  authority,  and  where  citizens  have 
scarcely  any  means  of  defending  themselves  against  their 
injustice.  This  latent  discord  assumes  every  day  more  and 
more  the  shape  of  antagonism  between  the  Government  and 
executive.  Men  from  Jesuit  schools,  who  have  received 
Catholic  education,  predominate  in  the  executive.  In  the 
political  world,  on  the  contrary,  liberal  ideas  prevail.  In  the 
French  parliament,  radical  liberalism  is  represented  by  a 
larger  number  of  socialists  and  radicals  than  anywhere  else 
in  Europe.  Thus  France  has  already  witnessed  radical 
ministries,  that  have  filled  conservatives  with  terror,  who 
likened  them  to  a  vanguard  of  the  revolution  that  was 
coming  into  power.  But  what  could  they  do,  when  their 
instrument  of  rule  was  a  narrow-minded  and  bigoted 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      231 

executive  ?  Even  had  these  ministers  been  bolder  reformers 
than  they  were,  they  would  have  been  none  the  less  impotent 
at  the  head  of  so  slow  and  conservative  an  executive. 

But  the  greatest  contradiction  of  all  can  be  observed  in  the 

policy  of  the  State  towards  the  Church.     The  Jacobin  State 

v^ 
is   founded   on    a   system   of  protection,   and,  as   we   have 

observed,  no  education  is  so  well  suited  as  that  of  the  Church 
to  prepare  men  for  a  regime  of  patronage.  The  lay  education 
which  the  Government  attempted  to  organize  was  very  im- 
perfect in  comparison  :  the  result  of  a  few  years'  labour  is 
weak  beside  the  work  of  ages.  Thus  the  Jacobin  State  is 
tempted  to  avail  itself  of  the  Church  as  an  excellent  im- 
plement for  disciplining  the  masses,  but  it  had  never  been 
able  to  do  anything  very  definite  in  this  direction  for  fear  of 
rousing  the  Church's  dormant  ambition  for  absolute  power. 
Thus  the  spiritual  policy  of  the  Jacobin  State  has  always 
wavered  during  this  century,  and  still  wavers.  When  it  feels 
itself  threatened  by  the  insubordinate  disposition  of  the 
people,  it  attempts  making  advances  to  the  Church,  sacrificing 
part  of  that  intellectual  liberty  which  it  is  its  historical 
function  to  insure  to  France.  When  this  policy  rouses  too 
much  discontent  in  the  intellectual  classes,  it  abandons  the 
Church  and  returns  to  more  liberal  methods, 


VIII 

This  continuous  state  of  vacillation  and  contradiction,  so 
characteristic  of  the  educated  classes  in  France,  finds  a 
unique  expression  in  those  three  popular  Parisian  journalists  : 
Henry  Rochefort,  Paul  Cassagnac,  and  Edward  Drumout. 
Here  are  three  men  and  three  papers  which  would  be  quite  in- 
comprehensible anywhere  but  in  France,  and  which  represent 


232  MILITARISM 

marvellously  the  state  of  feeling  that  accompanies  so  singular 
and  curious  a  form  of  government  as  the  Jacobin. 

Who  are  they  ?  The  titles  of  their  journals  are  equally 
bizarre.  The  name  of  Cassagnac's  paper  is  ISA-liter ite,  dry 
and  concise  as  a  shield  borne  by  a  brawny  arm  ;  that  of 
Rochefort's  is  L1  Intransigent^  which  is  proud  and  emphatic 
as  a  challenge ;  Drumout's  organ  bears  the  name  La  Libre 
Parole,  which  title  is  unprecise  and  transcendental,  like  to  a 
mystical  book.  The  one  wishes  to  express  his  contempt  of 
the  crowd ;  the  other  his  hatred  of  the  tyrannies  of  the 
powers  that  be  ;  the  third  his  insufferance  of  any  lie  respected 
by  universal  abjectness. 

In  reality  all  three  represent  the  same  thing :  a  spirit  of 
desperate  malignity  towards  everything.  It  would  seem  that 
each  of  them  aims  at  a  special  target :  Cassagnac  at  the 
republic,  Rochefort  at  the  bourgeoisie,  Drumout  at  the 
Jews.  But  this  looks  like  an  artifice  to  direct  public  attention 
to  the  tricks  of  the  shooter,  who  really  aims  far  beyond  his 
little  target.  Angry  discontent  at  everything,  insolent  con- 
tempt for  all  that  was,  furious  hatred  towards  all  that  is,  gloomy 
pessimism  for  the  future,  combined  with  vague  prophesies  of 
extraordinary  events ;  such  are  the  airs  which  these  singers 
of  political  woes,  these  Jeremiahs  of  French  society  at  the  end 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  never  tire  of  singing.  Regularly 
every  morning  they  write  that  France  is  on  the  verge  of  per- 
dition, that  her  arsenals  are  empty,  her  frontiers  exposed  to 
the  enemy,  her  powerful  ones  at  discord  and  more  ambitious 
for  personal  gain  than  for  public  glory,  her  soldiers  des- 
perately resolute  to  do  their  duty,  but  without  confidence, 
France  was  never  so  humiliated  and  badly  served  as  she  is 
to-day.  What  other  ambition  have  her  foreign  ministers  than 
to  be  the  servitors  of  the  German  Emperor?  France  is  the 


MILITARISM  AND   C&SARISM  IN  FRANCE      233 

most  wretched  country  on  earth;  her  industries  are  ruined, 
agriculture  is  no  better  off,  her  wealth  is  stagnant :  in  a  few 
more  years'  time  she  will  be  reduced  to  sleep  on  straw.  And 
what  about  their  verdicts  on  the  best-known  and  most  popular 
politicians?  They  are  all  low  comedians,  rogues  and  idiots 
destitute  of  ideas,  of  dignity  or  energy,  their  only  care  is  to 
stuff  their  pockets  ;  and  when  the  reader,  exasperated  by  this 
angry  criticism,  asks,  "  But  what  can  be  the  end  of  so  des- 
perate a  country  ? "  the  three  confreres  answer  him  with  vague 
but  fearful  premonitions  ;  they  speak  of  imminent  convulsions, 
they  hint  at  universal  slaughters,  at  the  renewal  of  blood- 
shed and  disorder,  of  supreme  judgments  and  supreme 
justice. 

Such  is  the  tone  in  which  the  three  most  popular  Parisian 
journalists,  these  three  canailles  of  the  pen,  these  pavement 
Cassandras,  treat  social  and  political  questions  both  great  and 
small.  The  temperament  of  the  three  writers  are  certainly 
diverse :  Cassagnac  is  stormy,  Drumout  mystical,  Rochefort 
ironical.  But  their  daily  task  is  the  same  :  a  task  of  furious 
universal  onslaught,  to  which  we  find  nothing  similar  in 
history  excepting  the  mission  of  the  Hebrew  prophets.  These 
three  Parisian  journalists  have  conceived  the  idea,  like  the 
Hebrew  prophets,  of  making  themselves  little  colporteurs  and 
retail  salesmen  of  discontent  and  pessimism  among  the  people, 
like  so  many  greengrocers  and  fishmongers  in  the  market ;  to 
find  the  merchant  in  his  office  during  a  pause  in  business 
while  he  seeks  a  moment's  repose ;  to  stop  the  worker  on  the 
way  to  his  shop,  and  the  scholar  on  the  road  to  school  ;  to  seat 
himself  besides  the  business  man  eating  a  hurried  lunch  at  an 
eating-house  ;  to  go  and  exchange  a  few  words  with  the  lazy 
official  slowly  looking  over  the  work  at  his  office.  By  means 
of  their  papers,  which  circulate  everywhere,  they  speak  to 


234  .MILITARISM 

every  one,  to  rich  and  poor,  women  and  men,  the  educated 
and  the  ignorant ;  and  in  the  minds  of  all  they  try  to  in- 
sinuate the  same  discontent,  or,  perhaps  more  correctly,  to 
express  well  what  these  already  feel  confusedly. 

Insult  and  defamation  are  the  two  weapons  necessary  to 
papers  such  as  these.   The  axiom  on  which  is  based  the  philo- 
sophy of  these  three  men  is,  that  every  one  who  opposes  them 
are  rogues  of  the  lowest  grade.     Honest  but  mistaken  belief 
is  a  thing  which,  according  to  them,  does  not  exist.     Thus 
they  speak  of  all  their  enemies  in  a  lofty  tone  of  contempt, 
and    the    form    with  which   they    express   this  corresponds 
to  the  sentiment :   it  is  violent  and  furious,  composed  of  a 
choice  collection  of  extreme  adjectives  and  substantives.     To 
express  the  fact  that  a   man  is  anti-pathetic,  one  of  these 
writers  will  say  that  he  is  disgusting  and  revolting;  to  say 
that  another  is  not  intelligent,  he  calls  him  a  d — d  fool.     A 
third  is  labelled   a   thief,    brigand,   violator.      This   simply 
signifies  that,  in  the  writer's  opinion,  the  probity  of  this  person 
is  not  entirely  free  from  doubt.     It  follows  that  as  the  most 
virulent  adjectives  are  used  in  mild  cases,  there  is  no  means 
of  sufficiently  increasing  the  penalty  when  grave  faults  are  to 
be  treated.     As  in  those  societies  where  the  lightest  offences 
are  punished  with    death,  no   stronger   punishment   can   be 
found  for  grave  crimes,  and  the  notions  of  crime  and  punish- 
ment  grow  confused,  so  these  executioners  of  the  pen  so 
massacre   their  enemies,  guilty  of  small  transgressions,  that 
they  are  unable  to  graduate  the  chastisement  to  meet  the 
case  of  worse  scoundrels. 

Insult  and  defamation  are  twin  sisters.  Not  only  are 
these  writers  prodigal  of  insults,  but  they  recount  horrible  and 
totally  false  tales  about  their  enemies,  which  they  affirm  with 
the  utmost  impudence,  as  though  they  possessed  authentic 


MILITARISM  AND    CsESARISM  IN  FRANCE      235 

documents  in  proof.  The  laws  against  defamation  of 
character  remain  paralyzed  in  face  of  such  audacity,  because 
timid  and  weak-kneed  laws  always  recede  before  fearless 
crime. 

But  surely  the  French  conscience  must  be  in  a  bad  way  to 
be  able  to  take  any  pleasure,  even  a  purely  literary  one, 
instead  of  feeling  moral  nausea,  in  reading  these  invectives  and 
lies,  invented  every  day  to  satisfy  blind  party  hatred  !  The 
world,  as  represented  by  these  maniacs,  is  like  those  Chinese 
pictures,  devoid  of  perspective  or  proportion,  where  all  the 
figures  are  squashed  out  flat,  near  objects  are  smaller  than 
distant  ones,  the  lodgers  taller  than  the  roofless  houses  they 
inhabit,  the  horses  larger  than  the  trees  round  which  they 
graze.  What  would  become  of  the  senses  and  reason  of  a 
man  who  for  years  saw  nothing  but  Chinese  figures  of  this 
order  ?  He  would  lose  all  count  of  the  reality  of  things,  of 
their  proportion  and  solidity.  Thus  it  happens  also  to  those 
who  accustom  themselves  to  consider  the  moral  world 
without  perspective  or  proportion,  as  represented  by  these 
enraged  denouncers,  to  whom  the  smallest  venial  offence  is 
equal  to  the  greatest  mortal  sin.  In  the  end  they  lose  all 
sense  of  moral  reality  and  its  gradations,  and  grow  to  look 
upon  the  world  as  a  horde  of  horrible  scoundrels,  created  to 
be  observed  by  the  only  four  honest  pairs  of  eyes  that  exist : 
the  journalists'  and  his  own.  But  precisely  because  with 
this  bitter  pessimisim  they  satisfy  a  social  need,  the  public 
permits  them  to  say  all  that  they  choose,  even  the  most 
repulsive  thing.  They  allow  Rochefort,  in  the  midst  of 
Catholic  France,  to  call  the  Pope  "ce  vieux  roublard  de 
Pecci  ;  "  they  allow  him  to  associate  the  name  of  Mary  with 
a  filthy  word.  What  matters  it  to  the  public  ?  He  loves  his 
journalist  none  the  less  because  he  wounds  his  feelings  so 


236  MILITARISM 

roughly  ;  he  likes  him  because  he  expresses  well  the  cold 
bitterness  which  lies  in  the  human  heart  suffering  from  the 
stings  of  unrevenged  hatreds.  These  terrible  literary  frondes 
represent  one  aspect  of  the  revolutionary  spirit,  that  deep- 
rooted  unrest  which  knows  no  definite  direction,  that  species 
of  nervous  tremor  which  from  time  to  time  seizes  a  multitude 
weary  of  long  oppression  and  not  comforted  by  the  hope  of 
any  near  relief,  whence  are  born  mystical  revolutions  such 
as  Christianity,  outbursts  of  war-like  ardour  such  as  the 
Napoleonic  conquests,  revolutions  which  swamp  cities  in 
blood  like  the  French  Revolution,  a  psychological  epidemic 
like  Boulangism,  or  a  violent,  and  I  might  almost  say  Neronic, 
journalism  like  the  Parisian.  A  serious  disease  for  a  people 
is  that  revolutionary  spirit  which  vaguely  dreams  of  change 
and  knows  not  of  what  order  it  should  be,  a  disease  which 
can  only  be  cured  by  the  spirit  of  continuous  progress ;  but 
this  spirit  is  never  found  under  a  despotic  Government,  and 
the  Jacobin  State,  despite  its  appearances,  is  despotic. 


IX 

The  conclusions  to  be  drawn  from  what  precedes  are 
these.  Notwithstanding  its  military  character,  a  Govern- 
ment like  the  French,  whose  executive  is  so  conservative,  slow, 
and  ill-controlled,  degenerates  into  a  permanent  condition 
of  military  weakness.  The  power  of  an  army  nowadays 
depends  on  its  organization,  which  should  be  constantly 
improved  in  accordance  with  the  mutability  of  our  age. 
French  ministers  are  not  sufficiently  plastic  to  fulfil  this 
work.  It  is  by  no  means  rash  to  suppose  that  many  of  the 
milliards  spent  on  the  army  since  1870  have  been  wasted  ; 
this  is  easily  comprehensible  to  any  one  who  knows  what 


MILITARISM  AND    CsESARISM  IN  FRANCE      237 

these  uncontrolled  administrations  are  worth.     The  French 
executive  was  capable  of  organizing   a   good    army   under 
Napoleon  I.  because  the  organization  of  armies  was  then  a 
rudimentary  affair,  and,  slow  as  it  was,  it  was  then  the  most  ; 
rapid  and  perfect  administration  in  Europe.     Now  it  has  been 
improved  on,  and  armies  require  to  be  more  delicately  made  x 
and  with  less  clumsy  tools. 


THE   MILITARY  OUTLOOK 
IN   ITALY 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN   ITALY 

I 

THE  second  Napoleonic  empire  was  a  splendid  blazing  sun  ; 
the  kingdom  of  Italy,  which  was  formed  out  of  the  revolutions 
and  wars  of  1859-60,  was  its  moon,  small,  pretty,  and  shining 
with  reflected  light. 

The  ancient  oak  of  absolutism,  and  the  spiritual  theocracy  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  blasted  by  the  Napoleonic  victories,  had 
reflourished  in  Italy  after  1815.  The  old  regime  was  restored 
there  much  more  effectually  than  in  France  ;  monarchism  was 
re-established  ;  the  Church  regained  possession  of  a  large 
portion  of  her  wealth,  by  means  of  which,  in  league  with  the 
State,  she  once  more  extended  her  protection  over  society. 
With  the  consent  and  deferential  supervision  of  the  State,  she 
then  undertook  the  education  of  the  middle  and  upper  classes, 
in  whom  she  hoped  to  inspire  a  healthy  respect  for  secular 
and  ecclesiastical  authority ;  whilst  to  the  working  classes  no 
instruction  was  imparted,  as  it  was  deemed  too  dangerous 
a  charity. 

The  Government  endeavoured  to  check,  by  every  means  in 
their  power,  the  development  of  trade  and  industry,  and  to 
impede  the  formation  of  a  class  of  independent,  cultured,  and 
wealthy  tradesmen,  which  would  most  probably  have  been 
a  hotbed  of  liberal  ideas.  In  short,  the  object  aimed  at  was 

Q 


24-2  MILITARISM 

to  keep  the  middle  classes  in  subjection  by  forcing  them  to 
rely  solely  on  State  or  Church  employment.  Italian  society 
was  composed  of  an  aristocracy  of  large  landed  proprietors, 
bigoted,  ignorant,  and  charitable  ;  of  a  middle  class  studying 
only  the  Latin  and  Italian  languages,  intolerant  of  the  revo- 
lutionary culture  of  France  and  England,  living  on  Government 
posts  and  ecclesiastical  benefices  ;  of  an  ignorant,  narrow- 
minded  class  of  merchants,  whose  only  occupation,  beyond 
their  antiquated  commerce,  was  to  cheer  the  king  when  he 
walked  abroad,  and  to  fulfil  scrupulously  their  religious  duties, 
not  forgetting  to  give  liberally  to  Church  chanties  ;  and  of  a 
working  class  composed  of  artisans  and  peasants,  for  the  most 
part  ignorant,  boorish,  lazy,  and  pugnacious,  who  lived  partly 
by  their  own  work,  and  partly  on  chanty  doled  out  by  State 
and  convents. 

Fortunately,  the  revolution  of  1848  was  an  earthquake 
which  so  shook  and  battered  the  walls  of  this  citadel  of 
tyranny  and  ignorance,  that  it  could  not  stand  much  longer. 
In  Piedmont  a  liberal  party  was  formed,  calling  itself  the 
Moderate  party,  headed  by  a  great  man,  Camilla  Cavoir, 
Availing  themselves  of  the  help  of  diplomacy,  this  party 
succeeded  in  overthrowing  the  mainstay  of  reaction  in  Italy 
and  Austria,  and  in  conquering  the  peninsula  by  force  of  arms, 
and  in  substituting  an  united  state  for  the  many  ancient 
ones  it  found  existing. 

The  Moderates  who,  under  the  leadership  of  Cavoir,  com- 
menced from  Turin,  and,  on  his  death,  completed  the  military 
conquest  of  Italy,  were  the  Jacobins  of  Italy.  The  title  of 
Moderates,  which  they  assumed,  must  not  delude  us.  They 
represented  a  cultured  minority,  a  handful  of  "  intellectuals," 
who  hated  the  mean  and  petty  regime  of  political  and 
spiritual  tyranny  prevailing  in  Italy.  They  admired  the 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  243 

flourishing  civilization  which  France  and  England  enjoyed, 
thanks  to  their  more  liberal  institutions  ;  and  desired  to  confer 
on  the  Italians  political  and  intellectual  liberty,  and  all  those 
benefits  of  modern  civilization,  trade,  railways,  the  telegraph, 
which  had  been  opposed  by  the  former  Governments.  They 
were  able  to  confound  and  strengthen  this  desire  with  another 
great  political  dream  which  then  fascinated  all  cultured  minds, 
and  which  had  been  roused  to  life  in  Italy  by  the  Napoleonic 
conquests  :  I  allude  to  the  patriotic  fever,  the  desire  for  a 
united  national  Government  free  from  foreign  intervention. 
Patriotic  ambition,  combined  with  a  love  of  freedom  and 
admiration  for  the  industrial  civilization  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  formed  the  programme  of  the  men  who  made  modern 
Italy. 

The  Italian  Jacobins,  however,  had  to  face  the  same  diffi- 
culty as  their  French  brethren.  The  grandeur  of  modern 
civilization,  the  necessity  for  liberal  reforms,  was  only  realized 
by  a  small  minority.  Members  of  the  nobility  courageously 
and  devotedly  took  part  in  the  Italian  revolution,  but  we 
cannot  say  that  the  nobility,  as  a  whole,  ever  sided  for  the 
new  order  of  things.  For  the  most  part,  their  education  had 
been  too  narrow  to  permit  of  their  being  anything  but 
devoted  to  the  ancient  regime.  The  bourgeoisie  mostly  lived 
under  the  protection  of  State  and  Church,  in  Government 
posts,  or  in  the  ranks  of  the  clergy ;  so  that,  even  discounting 
the  ignorance  and  narrow  bigotry  prevailing  in  most  families, 
we  could  not  expect  them  to  revolt  against  a  system  by  which 
they  lived.  The  working  classes,  ignorant  and  boorish,  only 
wished  to  eat  well  and  amuse  themselves,  and  cared  nothing 
for  parliamentary  rule  and  liberty  of  thought  and  Press,  for 
they  did  not  read,  and  their  only  thought  was  for  horse- 
racing,  the  game  of  Pallors,  and  the  Lotto. 


244  MILITARISM 

The  good  fortune  of  the  small  Jacobin  minority  consisted 
in  the  fact  that  in  1848,  owing  to  circumstances  and  intrigues 
which  it  would  take  too  long  to  enumerate,  it  was  able  to 
seize  the  reins  of  power  in  Piedmont,  and  make  that  province, 
which  had  adopted  parliamentary  institutions,  the  basis  of 
operations  for  a  military  conquest. 

The  new  Piedmontese  Government  was  strengthened  by 
those  intellectual  Italians  who  were  forced  to  emigrate  from 
their  country.  It  procured  the  assistance  of  France  and  of 
all  those  declasses,  discontented  men,  rebels,  heroes,  and 
maniacs  who  abound  in  a  country  so  fertile  in  great  men, 
criminals,  and  fanatics  as  Italy.  But  the  conquest  once 
achieved,  the  Jacobin  State  found  itself  in  the  same  straits  as 
in  the  French  Revolution — that  is  to  say,  they  had  to  enforce 
by  violent  means  a  regime  of  liberty  on  a  country  that  was, 
as  a  whole,  indifferent  or  adverse  ;  to  establish  the  minority 
rule  in  the  name  of  popular  sovereignty  ;  to  substitute  their 
own  protective  system  for  that  of  the  Church. 

In  short,  a  Jacobin  State  similar  to  the  French,  and 
initiated  in  a  great  measure  from  it,  was  established  in  Italy  in 
1859-60.  It  gave  freedom  to  the  intellectual  minority  weary 
of  Church  tyranny ;  it  organized  secular  education  ;  it  in- 
stituted civil  marriage  ;  it  suppressed  the  convents,  and  in 
many  ways  diminished  the  Church's  privileges,  and  despoiled- 
it  of  its  wealth.  But  the  middle  class  had  for  centuries  been 
accustomed  to  live  under  Church  and  State  protection,  and 
thus  the  Jacobin  Government  was  forced,  for  the  same  reasons 
which  led  to  similar  results  in  France,  to  become  its  protector, 
or  it  would  never  have  found  favour  in  a  society  whose 
interests  it  injured  by  reforms,  whose  conscience  it  wounded 
by  its  impiety.  The  same  reasons,  in  the  same  example, 
further  led  to  the  foundation  of  a  vast  civil  and  military 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  245 

bureaucratic  class..  It  was  thus  possible  to  give  salaries  and 
livelihoods  to  a  large  number  of  persons,  drawn  chiefly  from  the  ]/ 
bourgeoisie.  Thus  a  nucleus  of  men  interested  in  the  main- 
tenance of  the  new  r/gimewais  formed,  and  as  this  administra- 
tion became  the  centre  of  universal  protection,  it  rapidly 
collected  round  itself  a  crowd  of  jobbers  and  mendicants  whose 
affairs  the  Italian  Government  administers  to  this  day  in  the 
interests  of  a  small  oligarchy.  This  protection,  in  some 
respects,  took  the  shape  of  an  effort  to  introduce  the  new 
Anglo-French  type  of  civilization,  to  which  the  previous 
Governments  had  always  been  hostile,  and  which  the  country 
would  certainly  not  have  adopted  of  its  own  accord,  so  strong 
was  the  spirit  of  conservatism,  timidity,  and  ignorance  be- 
queathed by  the  old  regime.  Everything  had  to  be  done  at 
the  instigation  of  the  Government.  It  opened  new  roads  and 
forced  the  municipalities  to  do  likewise  ;  it  constructed  public 
works  of  various  descriptions,  established  schools,  telegraphic 
communication,  and  railroads;  it  founded  banks,  and  improved 
the  various  public  services,  over  which  it  expended  fabulous 
sums  and  contracted  heavy  debts.  All  these  novelties  being 
imitated  from  France,  the  parliament  finally  grew  to  resemble 
the  French  parliament,  and  became  an  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  an  oligarchy.  This  enabled  them  to  turn  to  their  own 
advantage  all  the  institutions  of  the  nascent  state.  Thus  the 
Italian  parliament  appears  to  be  modelled  on  the  English,  but 
it  is  in  reality  similar  to  the  French,  more  especially  in  two 
essential  characteristics  which  we  should  seek  for  in  vain  in 
England  :  the  interference  of  the  Government  and  executive 
in  elections,  and  the  disintegration  and  mobility  of  parlia- 
mentary parties. 

In   other   words,  the   Jacobin    State   in    Italy  consists  of 
permanent   functionaries,  democratically  recruited  from    all 


246  MILITARISM 

classes,  but  more  particularly  from  the  middle,  and  of  a 
parliamentary  oligarchy  which  was  very  restricted  until  1882, 
because,  till  then,  the  rights  of  suffrage  was  accorded  to  very 
few.  In  the  first  years  of  the  new  rule  the  electors  of 
deputies  numbered  only  300,000,  of  whom  little  more  .than 
a  third  exercised  their  prerogative ;  so  that  100,000  persons 
were  the  masters  of  the  State.  Since  1882  electoral  rights 
were  conceded  to  all  those  who  had  received  elementary 
education,  but  the  number  of  electors  was  always  small, 
because  many  neglected  to  vote.  Thus  in  1897,  the  citizens 
who  took  the  trouble  to  inscribe  their  names  in  the  voters' 
registrar  only  numbered  2,120,900,  and  of  these  in  the 
general  election  of  1897  only  1,199,175  voted,  i.e.  about 
3  per  cent,  of  the  population. 


II 

Now,  amongst  the  other  institutions  which  it  was  attempted 
to  introduce  into  Italy,  along  with  the  rest  of  Napoleonic 
Caesarism,  there  was  militarism,  with  which  we  have  princi- 
pally to  deal.  It  was  planned  to  give  to  Italy  a  great  army 
and  a  formidable  navy,  without  any  thought  of  the  expense. 
Two  factors  played  a  part  in  this  policy  :  one  ideal,  the  other 
material.  The  ideal  was  the  renewal  of  the  political  and 
military  greatness  of  Italy  ;  the  material,  the  need  felt  by  the 
Government  for  the  possession  of  a  strong  force  to  quell  the 
resistance  to  the  new  regime  which,  more  especially  in  Southern 
Italy,  was  much  more  serious  than  it  has  been  represented 
hitherto  in  the  histories  written  by  the  victors,  the  need  to 
excite  the  sympathy  of  the  population  in  the  new  regime  by 
attractive  illusions  of  glory,  and  to  find  a  social  position  for 
\a  large  number  of  persons. 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  247 

The  creation  of  a  strong  army  and  navy  led  the  new  Govern- 
ment to  spread  throughout  Italian  society  those  sentiments ; 
and  prejudices  which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  French  militarism. 
It  was  necessary  to  rouse  the  educated  classes  to  an  enthu- 
siasm for  military  glory  and  territorial  expansion,  to  organize 
that  system  of  mutual  intimidation  which  works  so  well  in 
France.  It  was  a  delicate  moral  undertaking  which  the 
ruling  classes  had  set  themselves,  and  at  which  they  have 
worked  with  energy  ever  since  1860. 

But  this  work  was  rendered  difficult  by  an  inherent  con- 
tradiction which  greatly  reduced  its  moral  efficacy.  The 
traditions  of  the  Italian  revolution  are  full  of  a  fine  spirit 
of  justice,  a  broad  humanitarianism,  which  manifested  itself 
practically  in  the  plebiscites,  and  in  that  theory  of  respect 
for  nationality  according  to  which  it  is  wrong  to  coerce  a 
people  into  subjection  to  foreign  rule.  This  sentiment  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  inheritances  that  has  come  down 
to  the  Italians  from  the  revolution,  and  it  is  all  the  more 
valuable  for  being  deep-rooted  and  universal  and  belonging 
to  no  party  in  particular. 

Now,  a  militarism  like  the  French  cannot  prosper  if  it  does 
not  popularize  the  contrary  principle  :  that  victory  is  always 
glorious  whatever  be  the  motive  for  the  combat,  that  one 
nation  must  bully  and  coerce  other  peoples.  The  Napoleonic 
were  able  to  establish  the  traditions  on  which  French  mili- 
tarism depends,  because  they  represented  anything  but  the 
brutal  spirit  of  conquest.  The  wars  of  Italian  independence 
could  not  have  this  effect,  because  they  were  waged — those 
against  Austria,  at  least — in  the  name  of  international  justice. 
The  principles  of  conquest,  and  those  of  justice  between 
nations,  are  diametrically  opposed  ;  but  the  Italian  Govern- 
ment long  wavered  between  the  two.  It  dared  not  altogether 


248  MILITARISM 

relinquish  the  principle  that  gave  it  birth,  but  it  sought  at 
the  same  time  to  insinuate  the  passion  for  conquest  in  the 
Italian  mind.  This  contradiction  was  a  source  of  military 
weakness  to  Italy,  which  had  the  misfortune  to  be  born,  not 
with  an  original  sin,  but  an  original  virtue.  An  indestructible 
spirit  of  international  justice,  widely  diffused,  more  especially 
amongst  the  educated  classes,  which  renders  impossible  the 
popularity  of  those  bellicose-patriotic  sentiments  so  prevalent 
in  the  French  bourgeoisie. 

The  Abyssinian  War  is  a  singular  proof  of  Italian  public 
feeling  on  this  point.  It  was  the  work  of  a  few  high-placed 
military  functionaries  and  foreign  ministers,  in  collusion  with 
a  parliamentary  faction  that  recognized  Crispi  as  its  leader. 
At  Court,  and  in  the  ministries  among  bureaucrats,  a  "project" 
for  vast  colonial  conquests  found  favour,  not  because  it 
represented  any  national  interests,  but  with  a  view  to  military 
prestige,  and  to  forward  dubious  speculations  that  should 
give  work  to  unoccupied  officials  and  financiers  in  search  of 
lucrative  investments.  Parliament,  which  was  more  directly 
in  touch  with  the  people,  has  always  been  anti-Africa,  but 
with  that  docility  which  characterises  its  dealings  with  the 
Government,  wherever  private  interests  are  not  concerned,  it 
did  not  interfere.  The  people,  who  are  always  attracted  by 
military  theatricality,  applauded  the  first  expedition,  believing 
it  would  prove  innocuous  and  successful.  But  by  degrees 
the  matter  assumed  a  tragic  aspect.  This,  however,  was 
ignored  or  unknown  except  by  a  few  whose  foresight  was 
vain.  Suddenly  the  moment  arrived  when  the  whole  nation 
should  have  assisted  the  Government  in  its  war  against 
Abyssinia.  But  at  that  moment  the  country  felt  that  it 
lacked  strength  for  several  reasons,  amongst  others,  because 
the  undertaking  roused  scruples  in  the  minds  of  many,  the 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  249 

result  of  those  liberal  traditions  in  the  name  of  which  United 
Italy  had  been  created. 

The  fate  of  the  campaign  was  not  even  known,  owing  to 
the  rigour  with  which  the  Government  enforced  silence  on  its 
adversaries.  Hence  a  continual  hesitation  perplexed  the 
minds  of  the  public.  This  invasion  of  a  foreign  country, 
whether  barbarous  or  not,  was  repugnant  to  a  large  majority  ; 
but  the  disgust  of  the  peace  faction  would  possibly  have  been 
less  evident  if  matters  had  gone  well.  It  naturally  grew 
stronger  after  the  crushing  defeat,  and  contributed  towards 
compelling  the  Government  to  abandon  all  ideas  of  re- 
conquest. 

Another  reason  why  the  Italian  Jacobin  Government  did 
not  succeed  in  popularizing  the  passion  for  military  glory 
among  the  upper  classes,  was  the  poverty  of  military  traditions 
in  Italy. 

The  military  history  of  France,  more  especially  in  our 
century,  is  of  grand  proportions,  and  furnishes  copious 
material  for  the  formation  of  a  military  reputation.  The 
French  do  not  merely  feed  their  military  fervour  with  the 
great  records  of  national  history ;  each  family  has  its  own 
recollections  :  grandfathers  and  great-grandfathers  who  fought 
under  Napoleon  I.,  fathers,  uncles,  and  relations  who  took 
part  in  the  Italian  wars  of  1859,  in  the  Mexican  campaign, 
in  the  defences  of  1870,  a  whole  immense  archive  of  family 
traditions,  which  are  bequeathed  from  father  to  son,  and 
which  reanimates  in  young  men  the  military  passion  of  their 
fathers.  In  Italy,  on  the  contrary,  the  history  of  the 
risorgunento  is  relatively  poor  in  heroic  deeds,  because  the 
revolution  was  made  as  circumstances  permitted,  i.e.  much 
more  by  diplomatic  manoeuvres  than  by  cannonades.  The 
year  1859  was  not  an  epoch  of  great  conquests  and  wars 


250  MILITARISM 

such  as  those  which  disturbed  the  early  years  of  the  century. 
Such  would  have  convulsed  European  society  too  profoundly, 
and  the  Powers  would  not  permit  Italy  to  turn  the  world 
upside  down.  The  only  truly  great  and  terrible  war  would 
have  been  that  of  1859,  if  it  had  had  its  full  evolution  ending 
with  the  conquest  of  Vienna.  But  that  was  cut  short  at 
its  best  point.  In  the  other  wars,  those  of  1860  and  1861 
not  excepted,  the  force  of  arms  was  always  combined  with 
diplomatic  manoeuvres  and  the  underground  work  of  corrup- 
tion. But  diplomatic  ability,  combined  with  patience  and  good 
luck,  is  capable  of  founding  a  State,  not  of  establishing  a 
warlike  reputation.  This  can  only  arise  from  great  victorious 
wars  generating  in  the  people  a  passion  for  military  glory, 
and  such  wars  were  no  longer  possible  in  the  years  that  saw 
the  establishment  of  Italian  unity. 


Ill 

But  all  these  were  secondary  causes,  which  do  not  entirely 
explain  the  military  weakness  of  contemporary  Italy.  The 
tragic  history  of  the  African  campaign  has  demonstrated  the 
fact  that  Italy  lacks  the  strength  to  resist  a  long  and  painful 
aggressive  war.  Look  at  France.  Twenty-seven  years  ago, 
both  reason  and  humanity  counselled  peace  after  Sedan. 
And  yet,  if  the  peace  had  then  been  concluded,  the  military 
pride  of  the  people  would  have  received  a  severe  shock,  while 
the  desperate  resistance  which  followed  the  first  decisive 
repulses,  contributed  to  save  the  military  sentiments  of  the 
public  from  that  dejection  which  follows  on  defeat.  Now, 
this  resistance  was  possible  because  a  minority  of  madmen 
had  the  courage  to  enforce  it,  at  the  cost  of  terrible  cruelty 
to  the  country  which  was  in  need  of  peace,  urging  on  by 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  251 

martial  trials  and  death  sentences  the  forcibly  recruited 
armies.  Indeed,  the  army,  during  this  inhuman  cruel  effort, 
was  finally  seized  with  a  species  of  collective  homicidal  mania, 
that  lasted  several  months,  whose  most  terrible  manifestation 
was  the  suppression  of  the  Commune.  Those  were  terrible 
days  of  bloodshed,  during  which  every  person  lived  in  such  a 
state  of  sanguinary  excitement  that  no  more  was  thought  of 
shooting  a  man  than  we  should  think  of  dealing  him  a  blow. 
If  the  Italian  Government  had  possessed  the  cruel  energy 
which  the  French  displayed  in  similar  emergencies,  it  would, 
after  Abba  Carima,  have  forcibly  repressed  the  demonstra- 
tions in  Rome  and  Milan  ;  it  would  have  threatened  the  most 
turbulent  provtnces  with  siege  ;  it  would  have  despatched  a 
great  army  to  Africa,  and  severely  applied  all  the  penalties 
of  the  penal  code  to  any  soldier  who  did  not  properly  control 
his  reluctance ;  it  would  have  had  no  scruples  about  ruining 
the  country  in  order  to  raise  the  necessary  funds.  In  short, 
it  would  have  tried  to  quell  the  feelings  of  the  nation  by 
brute  force.  Instead,  the  Government  hastened  to  reassure 
the  country  by  concluding  peace,  and  the  nation  renounced 
without  a  pang  all  hopes  of  revenge.  Nothing  is  so  detested 
and  unpopular  in  Italy  as  the  subject  of  Africa.  The  thought 
of  another  war  horrifies  the  people  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
little  coteries  of  soldiers  and  politicians  who,  in  their  hearts, 
sigh  after  another  campaign,  dare  not  manifest  their  ideas, 
however  feebly,  despite  the  fact  that  Italy  is  also  one  of 
those  countries  where  the  desires  of  the  majority  are  less 
considered  than  those  of  the  ruling  oligarchy. 

The   real    cause   of   the   weakness   of   Italian    militarism 
must  be  sought  in  the  weakness  of  its  Jacobin  Government.  |\| 
This  Jacobin  State  did  riot  find  in  Italy  the  same  favourable 
conditions  as  in  France.     Hence  what  were  tolerable  evils  in 


252  MILITARISM 

France,  in  Italy  became  terrible  crises  which  weaken  the 
country  and  render  its  future  uncertain  and  perilous.  No 
ordinarily  sane  politician  believes  himself  to  be  omnipotent, 
and  yet  nearly  all  act  as  though  this  were  their  opinion.  No 
policy  or  institution  can  be  created  out  of  nothing.  Like 
chemical  compound,  or  works  of  art,  they  must  be  drawn 
from  certain  materials  or  necessary  elements,  without  which 
all  creative  force  is  futile.  The  majority  of  political  errors 
arise  from  the  fact  that  men  do  not  realize  that,  without 
certain  human  intellectual  and  moral  elements,  it  is  as  im- 
possible to  create  certain  institutions  or  carry  out  certain 
policies,  as  it  is  impossible  to  make  a  lamp  burn  without 
oil.  This  is  the  case  of  latter-day  Italy.  A  small  group 
of  politicians  dream  of  military  glory  without  observing  that, 
not  only  the  social  elements  necessary  to  build  up  a  vigorous 
militarism  are  lacking,  but  that  the  Government  has  scarcely 
sufficient  strength  left  to  drag  on  its  existence.  They  have 
always  kept  their  eyes  fixed  on  French  example,  and  imitated 
these,  but  without  noticing  that  the  conditions  of  Italy  were 
very  different  from  those  of  France. 


IV 

The  superior  wealth  of  France  is  one  of  the  many  reasons 
why  militarism  and  the  Jacobin  Government  are  more  pros- 
perous there  than  in  Italy.  We  have  seen  that  the  Jacobin 
State  is  essentially  wasteful  ;  that  it  inevitably  squanders 
a  large  part  of  its  wealth  in  useless  expenditure,  in  subsidies, 
bounties,  protections,  arms,  and  wars  ;  that  it  is  compelled 
continually  to  increase  taxes.  We  can  a  priori  affirm  that 
a  rich  country  like  France  is  better  able  to  support  the 
extravagance  of  its  Government  than  a  poorer  one.  France 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  253 

consists  of  a  vast  plain  protected  by  two  mountain-chains,  which 
are  to  her  like  water  reservoires,  from  whose  summits  the  ice 
constantly  melts  to  irrigate  the  fertile  land.     She  is  warmed 
by  a  sun  which  shines  on  her  from  a  safe  distance,  without 
being  fierce  enough  to  scorch  her,  or  so  pallid  as  to  freeze. 
She  is    covered  with  ancient  and  beautiful   towns,  densely 
populated  by  a  conservative  people  deeply  imbued  with  the 
mystical  oriental  spirit  of  Catholicism,  hard  and  ferocious  at 
bottom,  but  clever,  industrious,  and  energetic.     She  looks  out 
on  the  Atlantic  and   the   Mediterranean,  is  situated  in  the 
centre  of  Europe  so  as  to  be  almost  its  heart.     By  land  and 
sea  her  frontiers  touch  those  of  nearly  every  other  European 
country — Italy,    Switzerland,    Germany,    Belgium,    England, 
and  Spain.     What  a  magnificent  position   whence  to  carry 
on  all  manner  of  commerce  and  industries,  and  to  exercise 
a  powerful   influence  over  European   society !     Further,  her 
traditions  of  civilization  are  more  deep-rooted  and  ancient 
than  in  any  other  European  country  with  the  exception   of 
Greece  and  Italy.     Consequently,  France  was  able  to  direct 
the  democratic  and  Jacobin  movement  which  has  played  such 
an  important  part  in  the  social  and  political  history  of  the 
century,  during  the  whole  of  which  she  has,  politically  and 
intellectually,  been  at  the  head  of  Europe — Prussia,  England, 
and  Russia  not  excepted — whilst,  at  the  same  time,  enriching 
herself. 

Italy,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  much  less  fertile  land. 
She  is  covered  with  rugged  mountains  which  men  have  only 
succeeded  in  inhabiting  at  the  cost  of  immense  labour.  The 
increase  of  population  necessitated  the  cutting  down  of  all 
the  mountain  forests.  But  the  forests  once  destroyed,  the 
mountain  torrents  poured  down  into  the  valleys,  flooding 
and  ruining.  In  those  parts  of  the  country  which  do  not 


254  MILITARISM 

suffer  from  this  scourge,  such  as  Southern  Italy  and  Sicily, 
there  is  a  lack  of  water,  the  rivers  are  few  and  poor,  the  sun 
does  not  warm  and  fertilize,  but  scorches.  Drought  is  the 
terrible  foe  of  agriculture.  Few  countries,  in  short,  are  as 
badly  off  for  water  as  Italy.  The  only  part  of  the  country 
well  adapted  to  agriculture  is  the  valley  of  the  Po.  Nor  is  the 
position  of  Italy  in  Europe  so  favourable  as  that  of  France. 
It  is  more  isolated,  and  was  still  more  so  during  the  first  half 
of  the  century,  before  the  opening  of  the  Suez  Canal,  and 
when  relations  with  the  Orient  had  not  the  importance  they 
now  have.  Italy  looks  out  on  that  species  of  internal  court- 
yard of  civilization,  the  Mediterranean  ;  from  no  side  does 
she  survey  the  immense  Atlantic,  now  traversed  by  the  high- 
roads of  the  human  race.  To  sum  up  in  a  few  words,  the 
value  of  Italy  is  now  calculated  at  55  milliard  francs,  or 
a  quarter  of  the  sum  at  which  France  is  estimated. 

For  this  reason  Italy  would  not  have  been  able  to  tolerate, 
with  French  facility,  the  same  degree  of  waste  such  as  a 
Jacobin  State  entails,  had  this  waste  been  of  equal  intensity 
and  proportion.  But  such  was  not  the  case.  This  Jacobin 
Government  was  constituted  in  a  much  more  dangerous  way 
in  Italy,  and  disastrous  for  its  economic  future.  In  France  it 
was  established  at  the  end  of  last  century,  before  the  great 
discoveries  and  inventions  of  modern  civilization  had  been 
made,  when  civilization  was  less  costly  and  more  simple. 
Thus  the  State  was  able  to  introduce  and  develop  modern 
civilization  under  its  protection,  by  degrees,  as  industrial 
progress  advanced.  In  Italy,  on  the  contrary,  the  ancient 
Governments  had  kept  the  country  in  a  state  of  barbarism,  so 
that  when  the  new  Government  came  into  power  it  had  to 
make  up  for  lost  time,  and  to  introduce  rapidly  that  civiliza- 
tion which  in  France  had  slowly  penetrated  in  the  course  of 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  255 

half  a  century.     But  these  sudden  changes,  introduced  by  a 
new  State,  in  the  midst  of  an  indifferent  or  hostile  country, 
demanded  immense  capital,  which  was  procured  partly  by 
loans,  partly  by  increase  of  taxation.     To  give  an  idea  of  the 
enormous  sums  which  the  new  civilization  cost  to  Italy,  it 
suffices  to  say  that  the  expenditure  of  the  Italian  Governments, 
anterior  to  1860,  amounted  to  little  more  than  500  million  francs, 
and  that  after  thirty-six  years'  continual  increase  it  reached,  in 
1896,  the  sum  of  1,830,753,509  francs.     From  the  525  million 
francs  which  public  expenditure  reached  previous  to  1860,  in 
1 863  it  had  reached  900  millions ;  in  1 87 1  it  had  already  reached 
one  milliard  and  250  millions,  which  increased  to  nearly  one 
milliard  and  518  millions  of  francs  in   1881,  to  rise  to  one 
milliard  and  936  millions  in  1 888.    Since  then,  the  expenditure 
vacillates  between  1700  and  1800  millions.     These  increases 
naturally  represent  in  part  the  interest  of  the  loans  borrowed, 
which  were  gigantic,  not  counting  the  period  from   1860-70, 
which  was  an  epoch  of  war  necessary  to  the  unification  of 
Italy.     The  public  debt,  which  in   1871  stood  at  9  milliard 
francs,  had  increased  in    1897  to  something  more  than    13 
milliards — a  debt  of  4000  million  francs  contracted  during 
twenty-six  years  of  peace  !    If  we  add  to  this  increasing  expen- 
diture and  debt  of  the  State  those  of  the  communes,  which 
have  also  notably  augmented,  we  can  gather  some  idea  of  the 
waste  of  money  which,  followed  in  Italy  on  the  foundation  of 
the  Jacobin  State. 


V 

Such  immense  expenditure  would  have  been  bad  for  the 
country  even  had  it  been  made  wisely,  with  the  sole  object  of 
rapidly  civilizing  Italy.  But  the  Jacobin  Government  was 


256  MILITARISM 

little  capable  of  performing  this  task  judiciously  and  economi- 
cally. It  was  composed,  as  we  have  seen,  of  a  bureaucracy 
imitated  from  the  French  and  of  a  parliamentary  oligarchy  ; 
but  the  bureaucracy,  recruited  in  haste  from  diverse  elements, 
was  still  less  suited  than  the  French  to  fulfil  its  task  with 
economy  and  perfection.  The  parliament  was  at  first  led  by 
a  small  number  of  educated,  honest,  and  wise  men,  who  had 
grown  up  under  the  influence  of  Cavour,  and  who  knew  how 
to  temper  the  faults  and  errors  of  a  revolutionary  Government. 
But  this  flite  disappeared  with  time,  and  the  cultured  classes 
were  unable  to  find  others  to  replace  it.  An  idea  has  survived 
in  the  Italian  middle  class— a  heritage  from  the  former  pro- 
tective Governments — that  the  only  decent  position  that  can 
be  held  by  the  son  of  a  not  wealthy  family  is  some  Govern- 
i/  ment  post,  and  that  the  Government  is  something  sublime 
and  superior  to  ordinary  men,  which  it  is  madness  to  oppose 
or  criticize.  The  Oriental  idea  of  the  sanctity  of  authority, 
^inherited  by  the  Church  from  the  Roman  Empire,  has  sur- 
vived through  the  middle  ages  to  our  own  times.  The 
middle  class  passively  accepted  the  new  Government  as  it  had 
accepted  its  predecessors.  Any  policy  which  favoured  the 
increase  of  expenditure,  employment,  and  public  works  was 
popular.  It  was  popular  with  the  workers,  who  thought  it 
would  be  good  for  work  ;  with  the  middle  class,  for  whom 
new  posts  were  thus  created  ;  with  the  higher  classes,  who,  in 
the  extensive  State  loans,  saw  a  good  investment  for  their 
money.  These  classes  were  timid,  unaccustomed  to  business, 
and  disinclined  to  run  any  risk,  like  all  well-to-do  people  who 
live  under  a  protective  system  ;  they  therefore  found  it  con- 
venient to  make  State  loans.  Thus,  after  1882,  when  the  right 
of  suffrage  was  extended,  it  sufficed  for  an  ambitious  man  to 
promise  his  electors  that  he  would  make  the  Government 


THE   MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  257 

spend  a  lot  of  money  to  their  advantage  in  order  to  get 
returned.  Thus  the  Italian  parliament,  more  particularly 
after  1878,  became  filled  with  ambitious  men  of  mediocre 
intelligence,  and  too  often  rogues,  who  were  powerful  because 
they  knew  how  to  procure,  not  the  well-being  of  the  public, 
but  the  transitory  well-being  of  their  coterie  and  friends. 

In  this  manner,  public  opinion  in  Italy  can  exercise  no  con- 
trol over  expenditure.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  military 
expenditure  is  unproductive,  and  leads  to  the  destruction  of 
capital,  because  the  money  invested  in  a  fortress  or  a  barrack 
is  consumed  for  ever,  and  has  not  the  power  of  reproduction 
like  that  invested  in  a  prosperous  business.  Therefore,  it  is 
evident  that  a  poor  country  should  avoid  such  expenditure, 
unless  it  seeks  its  own  ruin.  And  yet,  by  playing  on  the 
ignorance  and  pusillanimity  of  the  parliamentary  oligarchy, 
the  heads  of  the  Italian  army  easily  managed  to  persuade  the 
Government  to  augment,  beyond  the  bounds  of  all  reason, 
the  military  expenses  of  the  State,  and  to  spend,  in  twenty-six 
years  (from  1871-97),  8  milliard  and  223  million  francs  on 
the  army  and  navy,  an  enormous  waste  of  capital  to  a 
country  whose  total  wealth  is  reckoned  at  55  milliards  ! 

Now,  this  was  not  all.  Money  was  spent  equally  lavishly 
and  foolishly  on  public  works,  railroads  more  especially,  by 
whose  construction  many  contractors  enriched  themselves, 
through  resorting  to  all  manner  of  fraudulent  tricks.  It 
suffices  to  cite,  as  an  example,  that  certain  railways  which 
the  contractors  had  agreed  to  build  for  202  million  francs,  in 
consequence  of  various  intrigues  in  the  end  cost  352  millions 
to  the  State. 

The  nation,  however,  paid  little  attention  to  this  waste, 
living  happily  in  the  midst  of  the  abundance  which  so  much 
money  spent  by  the  State  diffused,  without  reflecting  that 

R 


258  MILITARISM 

such  prosperity  must  naturally  be  of  a  transitory  character, 
and  that  the  Government  could  not  long  continue  such 
liberality.  The  better  part  of  the  public  wealth  was  spent 
by  the  State  on  these  undertakings,  and  very  little  remained 
for  the  development  of  national  commerce  and  industry. 
The  result  was  that  while  schools,  roads,  and  railways 
increased,  production  flagged  ;  and  this  led  to  heavier 
taxation.  Besides  State  loans,  a  large  proportion  of  Italian 
capital,  after  1860,  was  spent  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
monastic  lands,  which  the  monks  had  kept  most  negligently, 
in  the  purchase  and  untimbering  of  mountain  forests,  and 
the  cultivation  of  unwooded  land.  Agricultural  investments 
were  regarded  as  safer  than  hazardous  industrial  under- 
takings, in  a  land  where  the  conservative  spirit  is  strong, 
and  in  which,  since  three  centuries,  agriculture  was  found 
the  basis  of  all  riches.  But,  unfortunately,  these  agricultural 
investments  proved  on  trial  to  be  even  more  dangerous, 
because  fifteen  years  later  agricultural  products  began  to 
diminish  in  value,  and  more  especially  cereals,  owing  to  the 
cultivation  of  new  continents  and  countries. 


VI 

Increase  in  population  must  be  added  to  the  former 
evils.  In  1881  the  Italian  population  numbered  less  than 
29  millions;  in  1891  it  had  increased  to  31  and  a  half  millions. 
In  France  the  decrease  of  population  is  much  deplored,  and 
its  cause  is  earnestly  inquired  into.  Few  seem  to  perceive 
that  the  cause  lies  in  the  universal  State  protection  applied 
by  the  French  State  to  society.  Where  the  middle  class, 
instead  of  depending  for  its  livelihood  on  some  useful  pro- 
ductive pursuit,  lives  principally  on  the  favours  of  a  public 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  259 

body,  stability  of  population  is  an  advantage,  because  there 
the  population  does  not  augment,  so  neither  do  those  who 
demand  its  favours  and  protection,  and  consequently  the 
lucky  minority  who  benefit  by  it  are  better  off.  The  Church 
fully  realizes  this,  and  it  therefore  made  celibacy  a  necessary 
condition  to  its  priests  and  monks.  Prudent  Malthusian 
practises  take  the  place  of  celibacy  with  those  favoured  by 
the  State.  Moreover,  as  the  Jacobin  Government  is  by  its 
nature  a  dissipater  and  destroyer  of  wealth,  sterility  by  all 
classes  is  advantageous  to  the  society  it  governs,  for  the 
country  is  forced  to  make  up  by  private  economy  for  the 
extravagance  of  the  administration.  In  France  and  Italy 
domestic  economy  is  much  greater  than  in  England ;  more 
especially  in  France,  where,  amongst  other  economies, 
economy  [in  children  is  strictly  observed.  France  borrows 
many  of  the  workers,  necessary  to  the  growing  development 
of  civilization,  from  neighbouring  countries,  Italy  more 
especially ;  and  thus  other  lands  have  to  bear  the  expenses 
of  rearing  these  labourers,  whom  France  receives  ready  to 
render  service.  Consequently,  there  exist  in  France  only 
a  very  small  number  of  unemployed. 

In  any  case,  the  most  important  point  is  that  the  middle 
class  does  not  augment  in  France,  therefore  the  State  is  not 
constantly  forced  to  satisfy  increasing  demands  for  employ- 
ment and  favours.  In  Italy,  with  the  constitutions  of  the 
kingdom,  on  the  contrary,  there  sprung  into  being  an  ex- 
tensive bureaucracy ;  but  this  class  was  no  more  economical 
in  its  prolific  energies  than  with  the  public  funds.  Almost 
every  one  of  these  middle-class  families  generated  numerous 
sons,  whom  their  fathers  set  to  study,  so  that  they  might  fill 
official  posts,  whilst  many  families  of  the  lower  bourgeoisie 
aimed  at  similar  positions  for  their  children.  This  fecundity 


260  MILITARISM' 

resulted  in  the  consumption  of  the  great  part  of  the  savings 
of  middle-class  families,  which  are  spent  in  educational  ex- 
penses, and  by  diminishing  their  reserves  it  ended  in 
impoverishing  them,  and  in  the  same  ratio  the  chances  of 
rinding  employment  for  their  sons  diminished.  For  twenty- 
five  years  the  Italian  Government  has  been  continually  multi- 
plying official  posts  ;  it  has  created  regiments,  schools, 
divisions,  manufactured  railways  ;  the  communes  have  found 
new  jobs  for  their  officials,  and  augmented  the  number  of 
public  services;  but  with  the  increase  of  bureaucratic  ex- 
penses on  the  one  hand,  and  the  waste  of  public  funds  on 
the  other,  the  finances  of  both  State  and  municipalities 
came  to  an  end,  and  they  were  forced  to  receive  no  more 
functionaries. 

When  the  fountains  of  Government  abundance  began  to 
dry  up,  when,  through  lack  of  funds  and  the  impossibility  of 
negotiating  fresh  loans,  the  State  was  forced  to  check  the 
extension  of  the  bureaucracy,  and  to  put  a  stop  to  public 
works,  then,  and  then  only,  did  the  Italians  realize  what  it 
meant  to  have  allowed  themselves  so  carelessly  to  be  made 
one  of  the  most  heavily  taxed  nations  in  the  world.  The 
average  of  State  expenses  (apart  from  those  that  are  purely 
communal)  stood  at  1821  million  francs  from  1890  to  1895, 
whilst  the  French  was  3665  millions,  the  English  2266 
millions,  the  Belgian  320  millions.  Now,  as  the  value  of 
Italy  is  calculated  at  55  milliard  francs,  while  that  of  France 
is  reckoned  at  225,  that  of  England  270,  and  that  of  Belgium 
at  34  milliards,  the  Italians  find  themselves  in  the  condition 
that  the  French  would  if  they  had  to  pay  7449  milliards 
in  taxes,  the  English  if  they  paid  8939  milliards,  and 
Belgium  if  its  taxation  amounted  to  8124  milliards.  It  is 
easy  to  conceive  what  a  terrible  drag  on  industry  such 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  2bl 

gigantic  taxation  must  be.  The  nation's  capacity  for  con- 
sumption is  necessarily  much  reduced  by  these  fearful  taxes, 
which  every  year  withdraw  an  immense  amount  of  wealth 
from  useful  employment  to  pay  huge  military  expenses. 
And  consumption  naturally  limits  production,  since  what 
object  is  there  in  producing  what  cannot  be  consumed  ? 
When  the  number  of  the  bureaucracy  was  complete,  and 
the  diminution  of  public  works  had  thrown  innumerable 
workers  and  middle-class  youths  out  of  employment,  it 
proved  difficult  to  them  to  obtain  occupation  in  private 
industries,  because  the  enormous  taxation  had  checked 
their  development. 

To  this  must  be  added  a  final  scourge :  protectionism. 
Availing  themselves  of  the  ignorance  of  the  Italian  public, 
who  understand  economic  problems  still  less  than  the  French, 
a  small  number  of  interested  men  in  1887  deluded  the  Parlia- 
ment, by  means  of  all  manner  of  intrigues,  to  vote  for  a  new 
customs  tariff,  which  replaced  the  free-trade  system  then 
prevalent  in  Italy  by  an  exaggerated  regime  of  protectionism. 
The  old  fable  of  protecting  national  industries  was  employed 
to  persuade  opponents  that  this  project  was  a  means  of 
enriching  the  country.  But  its  real  effects  were  the  inevitable 
ones  of  protection,  the  impoverishment  of  the  masses,  which 
grew  worse  in  Italy  than  elsewhere,  for  this  class  had  been 
so  very  poor  to  start  with.  Protection,  moreover,  by 
impeding  or  rendering  impracticable  the  exportation  of 
agricultural  produce,  reduced  the  value  of  exportable  goods 
(wine,  oil,  fruit,  cereals),  and  thus  it  artificially  rendered  the 
investment  of  large  capital  in  land  still  less  profitable. 
Protection,  in  short,  though  it  may  have  benefited  a  few 
industries,  increased  the  demand,  and  raised  the  price  of 
most  manufactures,  just  as  the  earnings  of  the  middle  class 


262  MILITARISM 

diminished ;  so  that  though  it  made  millionaires  of  a  few 
fortunate  men,  and  conceded  a  few  brief  years  of  Well-being 
to  the  working  population  of  certain  industrial  districts,  it 
rendered  the  conditions  of  the  middle  class  and  the  multitude 
still  more  miserable. 


VII 

The  increase  in  taxation  to  which  the  increase  in  the  wealth 
of  the  country  did  not  correspond,  careless  destruction  of 
capital,  protection,  augmentation  of  population,  impoverish- 
ment of  agriculture,  brought  about  the  crisis  which  was  fatal 
in  a  country  where  one  of  the  three  factors  of  production, 
men,  continually  increase ;  the  second,  land,  remains  station- 
ary ;  and  the  third,  money  >  diminishes,  being  either  destroyed 
or.  squandered.  Work,  in  consequence,  is  miserably  paid. 
Country  labourers  work,  more  especially  in  the  rice  districts, 
for  wages  under  a  franc  a  day.  Small  proprietors,  it  is  cal- 
culated, rarely  earn  so  much  as  £40  a  year.  In  the  little 
towns,  where  hands  are  plentiful,  there  are  numbers  of  men 
and  women  who  willingly  work  at  the  weaving  industry  four- 
teen hours  a  day,  for  from  i  to  2  francs  per  diem.  In  large 
towns  and  in  trades  which  demand  a  higher  grade  of  instruc- 
tion, a  wage  of  3.50  francs  a  day  is  considered  quite  princely. 
Very  few  workers  earn  as  much  as  5  francs  a  day,  and  the 
luckiest  are  those  who  succeed  in  obtaining  employment  in 
the  Government  arsenals  and  in  the  great  railway  offices, 
where  higher  salaries  are  given,  and  where  men  cannot  be 
dismissed  when  work  is  lacking. 

Yet  worse  is  the  condition  of  the  middle  class.  The  liberal 
professions  are  ill-paid  on  account  of  the  keen  competition  ; 
intellectual  ones  are  not  paid  at  all.  Crowds  of  doctors  and 


THE   MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  263 

barristers  squabble  over  patients  and  clients ;  lawyers  employ 
all  manner  of  tricks  and  ruses  to  multiply  disputes,  being  more 
fortunate  in  this  respect  than  doctors,  who  cannot  make  men 
ill  by  artificial  means,  in  order  to  be  able  to  cure  them  after- 
wards.    Thus,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  lucky  men  who 
succeed   in  monopolizing  the  rare  rich  clients,  the  majority 
who  attend  the  class  of  bourgeoisie  and  workers,  that  are 
growing  poorer  year  by  year,  have  to  content  themselves  with 
even  poorer  remuneration.      In  large  towns  excellent  young 
doctors  are  to  be  found  who  accept  50  centimes  for  a  visit, 
and  the  most  capable,  those  who  consider  themselves  highly 
privileged,   never   ask   more   than    2.50   or   3    francs.      The 
richest  newspapers  rarely  pay  more  than  25  or  30  francs  for 
an  article,  and  then  it  must  be  by  some  well-known  man, 
otherwise  it  is  paid   20,  15,   10,  or  even  5  francs.     For   100 
francs  any  publisher  can  find  a  person  to  translate  a  huge 
octavo  volume  on  political  economy  or  medicine  from  some 
foreign   language.     Young  ladies  can  receive  instruction  in 
the   pianoforte   for    50   centimes   a   lesson.     The   best   paid 
schoolmasters  receive  2000  francs,  but  the  number  of  these 
are  few;  they  very  rarely  are  paid   more  than  750  or  800 
francs.     In  a  city  like  Turin  there  is  a  certain  set  of  young 
teachers  who  give  lessons  every  day  for  100  francs  a  year  ! 
University   professors    rarely   earn    more  than    2000   francs. 
They  are  divided  into  various  classes,  of  which  the  best  paid 
receive    5000  francs  a  year,  but  the  others  receive  salaries 
varying  between  a  minimum  of  1200  to  a  maximum  of  3500 
francs.     A  lieutenant  in  the  Italian  army  receives  5  francs 
a  day,  a  captain  less  than  10.     The  higher  officials  are  also 
relatively  poorly  paid.    The  highest  salary  a  judge  can  receive 
is  3500  francs.  The  president  of  the  Court  of  Cassation,  who 
is  the  highest  magistrate  in  the  land,  receives  15,000  francs, 


264  MILITARISM 

a  State  councillor  9000  francs.  The  general  director  of  a 
ministry,  who  is  the  highest  permanent  functionary  after  the 
president  and  vice-president,  receives  12,000  francs. 


VIII 

The  ultimate  result  of  this  state  of  things  is  that  in  Italy 
the  Jacobin  Government  has  reached  such  a  degree  of  weak- 
ness that  it  scarcely  manages  to  drag  on.      In  France  the 
State  is  weakened  by  many  vices  and  contradictions,  but  the 
middle  class,  the  better  educated  portion  more  especially,  has 
a   reserve   of  moral   energy.     One   portion   of    the   French 
population  is  really  enthusiastic  for  the  ideal  of  the  military 
and  political  supremacy  of  their  nation,  another  for  the  great 
liberal  and  democratic  principles  of  the  Revolution.     Let  an 
unfortunate  war,  like  that  of  1870,  come  to  pass,  or  a  dark 
and  tragic   history  of  injustice  and  horror  commence  with 
the  condemnation  of  an  innocent  man,  and  a  large  number 
of  energetic  and  generous  persons  are  found  to  stir  up  the 
public   conscience.     The    military   formula  of  the    national 
-    honour  and  the  national  flag,  the  formula  of  the  Revolution, 
Liberty,    Equality,    and    Fraternity,    are   still,    to   a   certain 
extent,  living  things  to  educated  France,  and  the  Government 
derives  thence  considerable  strength.     Trouble  begins,  how- 
ever, when  the  military  and  revolutionary  formulas  are  at 
variance.     Here  also  the  Jacobin  State  can  depend,  with  a 
fair  degree   of  certainty,  on  its   bureaucracy,  which  served 
the  Empire  as  faithfully  as  it  served  the  Monarchy  and  the 
Republic,  but  which  believes  firmly  in  the  religion  of  the 
army  and  the  French  Revolution. 

But  this  state  of  the  French  mind  is  not  due  to  any  quality 
innate  in  the  people,  but  in  a  great  measure  to  the  social 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  AV  ITALY  265 

conditions  of  France,  more  especially  to  the  superior  remu- 
neration' of  labour,  more  particularly  in  the  middle  class.  We 
have  already  stated  that  an  essential  social  condition  on 
which  the  morality  of  a  community  depends  is  the  remunera- 
tion of  labour.  Where  man's  labour  is  badly  paid,  where  the 
educated  classes — the  backbone  of  modern  society — are  com- 
pelled to  work  hard  for  a  wretched  pittance,  ideal  energy 
slackens  ;  men  abandon  themselves  to  pessimistic  indifference, 
and  seek  consolation  in  exaggerated  mysticism.  And  thus  it 
happens  that  the  educated  class  in  Italy,  disgusted  at  the 
wretched  remuneration  they  receive  for  their  work,  weary  of 
the  hard  labour  they  are  forced  to  endure  in  order  to  exist, 
irritated  at  their  own  squalid  existence,  give  themselves  up  to 
a  universal  laissez  faire,  lack  the  energy  to  trouble  themselves 
about  anything  outside  of  the  sufferings  and  bitterness  of  their 
daily  life,  and  grow  indifferent  to  national  interests.  The 
honour  of  the  flag  !  The  absurdities  which  have  taken  "place 
in  France  on  account  of  this  phrase  would  never  have  been 
possible  in  Italy.  After  the  battle  of  Adna  the  military 
party  was  compelled  to  abandon  any  idea  of  revenge,  for 
otherwise  it  ran  the  risk  of  creating  a  revolution.  Even  to- 
day the  fate  of  the  monarchy  depends  to  a  certain  extent  on 
the  future  aspect  of  the  African  policy.  The  country  wishes 
for  peace,  and  cares  little  about  great  international  questions. 
It  does  not  trouble  itself  in  the  least  about  the  problem  of  the 
East,  or  the  equilibrium  of  the  Mediterranean.  It  has  no 
ambition  to  share  in  the  division  of  China.  In  no  country, 
perhaps,  is  there  so  little  interest  displayed  in  international 
problems. 

In  short,  the  educated  classes  have  sunk  deeper  than  ever 
into  that  condition  of  political  inertia  which  was  always  natural 
to  the  Italian  bourgeoisie,  and  which  is  the  sad  inheritance 


266  MILITARISM 

from  past  Governments.     So  long  as  the  Government  pos- 
sessed money  to  spend,  this  class  took  some  slight  interest  in 
the  State.    Now  that  they  have  nothing  to  hope  from  it,  they 
abandon  it  to  its  own  devices.     We  have  already  seen  that 
only  a  small  proportion  (three  per  cent,  of  the  population)  take 
part  in  the  elections,  and   we   must  add  that  these  consist 
chiefly  of  men  in  humble  positions,  and  that  abstention  from 
voting  is  much  more  general  in  large  rich  cities,  such  as  Milan, 
than  in  country  districts.     The  fact  is,  that  the  elections  are 
carried  on  almost  entirely  by  small  coteries  of  ambitious  men, 
who  naturally  recruit  their  partisans  principally  from  among 
the  ignorant  workers,  whom  they  bribe  to  go  to  the  ballot, 
while  educated  men  abstain  from  voting  out  of  indifference  or 
disgust.     This  abstention  is  rendered  still  more  general  by 
the  Catholics,  who  have  always  preached  indifference  to  State 
politics  in  the  hope  of  rendering  matters  intolerably  difficult. 
The  Catholic  party  is  very  strong,  and  is  led  by  the  High 
Church  prelates,  who  are  clever  and  ambitious,  men  who  hope 
to  witness  the  return  of  the  good  old  days  when  society  could 
not  get  on  without  them.     Have  they  any  precise  political 
ideas  or  programme  ?    None,  beyond  that  of  exploiting  the 
Jacobin  Government  in  so  far  as  it  can  be  of  use  to  them,  and 
of  creating  difficulties  for  it   by  preaching  abstention   from 
the  ballot.     Thus  the  followers  of  the  Catholic  party  are  not 
above  accepting  Government  posts  and  investing  their  savings 
in  Government  funds.    Indeed,  the  richest  section  of  the  party, 
which  consists  of  nobles  and  great  land-owners,  has  succeeded 
in  obtaining  from  the  hated  Government  protection  for  corn 
just  when  its  price  was  going  down  in  the  American  markets. 
But  the  Catholics  have  never  agreed  to  recognize  the  Govern- 
ment they  exploit. 

Difficulties    are  thus  ever  on   the  increase,   because  the 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  267 

indifference  of  the  middle  class  is  still  the  least  danger  which 
threatens  the  Jacobin  State  in  Italy.  A  large  proportion  of 
the  middle  class,  and  even  of  the  bureaucracy,  is,  in  fact,  grow-  i 
ing  hostile  to  the  Government.  The  Government  can  depend 
on  the  bureaucracy  in  France  ;  in  Italy  it  cannot.  Here  many 
officials,  dissatisfied  with  their  careers,  which  are  blighted  by 
the  poverty  of  the  State,  burdened  with  families  and  in  debt, 
frequently  disgusted  by  the  injustice  to  which  they  are 
subjected,  and  the  intrigues  necessary  for  promotion,  hate  the 
Government  they  serve.  In  the  ranks  of  the  bureaucracy  there 
are  many  who  profess  republican-socialist  ideas.  In  political 
elections  in  large  towns  it  has  been  observed  that  socialist 
candidates  run  a  better  chance  of  getting  elected  in  the  districts 
inhabited  by  Government  officials  and  the  educated  classes 
generally.  Let  us  add  to  this,  disaffection  of  another  order, 
but  equally  grave,  against  the  parliamentary  oligarchy.  That 
portion  of  the  middle  class  which  has  received  a  university 
education  and  represents  the  cultured  Italy  of  to-day,  by 
reason  of  its  poverty  and  the  hard  work  to  which  it  is  con- 
demned in  order  to  live  if  it  follows  a  liberal  profession,  if 
it  enters  the  bureaucracy  is  excluded  from  taking  any  part 
in  politics.  Thus  parliament  grows  ever  fuller  of  rich  noodles 
who  look  upon  politics  as  a  species  of  sport,  and  of  ambitious 
intriguers,  who  see  in  it  only  a  means  of  satisfying  their  vanity 
and  private  interests.  What  greater  dilemma  could  one 
conceive  for  a  country  than  for  its  enlightened  men  to  be 
condemned  to  inertia  whilst  perceiving  the  evil  and  its  cause 
and  remedy ;  and  for  education,  which  should  be  a  fountain 
of  courage  and  faith  for  State  reforms,  to  be  only  another 
ground  for  discouragement,  and  to  afford  merely  the  vain 
knowledge  of  an  apparently  incurable  evil  ? 

In  the  midst  of  this  universal  indifference  with  regard  to 


268  MILITARISM 

politics,  one  party  only  prospers,  and  that  is  the  socialist. 
The  only  seriously  organized  party  which  knows  how  to  keep 
ambitious  men  and  intriguers  at  bay  is  the  socialist,  which 
is  led  by  intelligent  and  educated  men.  It  organizes  the 
workers  and  collects  the  votes  of  the  discontented  members 
of  the  middle  class,  meeting  everywhere  with  a  success  which, 
not  without  cause,  alarms  the  Government.  The  elector 
frequently  has  to  choose  between  two  candidates  :  the  one  a 
socialist,  the  other  an  ignorant  and  dishonest  rogue.  How 
is  he  to  act  ?  Many  belonging  to  the  upper  classes  abstain  ; 
others,  in  disgust  and  despair,  vote  for  the  socialist.  We  can 
easily  understand  how  all  this  favours  the  socialist  and  per- 
plexes the  Government.  But  the  socialist  party,  in  its  turn, 
although  it  is  strong,  owing  to  the  weakness  of  its  rivals,  is 
undermined  by  an  indissoluble  contradiction.  Is  it,  or  is  it 
not,  a  revolutionary  party  ?  Equally  good  arguments  could 
be  found  to  prove  either  of  the  two  hypothesis,  because  the 
true  nature  of  the  party  is  very  ambiguous.  It  knows  that 
the  sympathy  it  inspires  in  the  cultured  classes  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  it  is  considered  solely  as  a  party  of  reform,  which 
desires  to  ameliorate  the  existing  Government,  not  as  a 
party  which  desires  at  an  early  date  to  upset  property  and 
society.  It  therefore  makes 'a  great  point  of  insisting  on 
its  evolutionary  character.  But  another  branch  of  the 
party  conceives  socialism  in  a  far  more  revolutionary  light, 
which  affrights  the  Government,  just  as  the  evolutionary 
faction  assuage  the  intellectual  minority  who  intrigue  against 
the  Government. 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  IN  ITALY  269 


IX 

Is  it  difficult  now  to  understand  the  reason  of  the  bank- 
ruptcy of  Italian  militarism  ?  The  Jacobin  State,  which  is 
like  the  scaffolding  of  militarism,  is  too  weak  in  Italy.  This 
Government  rests  on  three  pillars  :  military  prestige  which 
arises  from  fortunate  wars  ;  money  ;  and  the  material  strength 
of  the  army.  In  France,  the  State  still  possesses  much  money, 
although  less,  perhaps,  than  at  one  period  ;  a  military  prestige 
which,  though  somewhat  antiquated,  is  still  considerable  ;  and 
a  strong  army.  Italy  no  longer  possesses  either  military  \  . 
prestige  or  money  ;  the  army  alone  remains. 

Surrounded  by  the  indifference  of  that  portion  of  society 
which  it  chiefly  benefits,  pursued  by  the  discontent  of  another 
class  which  it  oppresses,  not  master  of  its  own  bureaucracy,  ^ 
poor  in  funds,  opposed  by  some  as  impious  and  an  enemy  of 
the  Pope,  by  others  as  being  corrupt,  wasteful,  having 
exhausted  all  the  resources  of  taxation,  with  a  population  so 
miserably  impecunious  that  a  rise  in  the  price  of  bread,  such 
as  that  which  took  place  in  1898,  reduced  large  numbers  to 
the  verge  of  starvation  and  drove  them  to  rebellion — the 
Jacobin  Government  is  too  much  in  need  of  the  army  to  <^-(J 
maintain  internal  order  to  undertake  great  foreign  wars.  In 
the  social  crisis  which  convulses  Italy,  militarism  is  altering 
in  character  and  object.  It  has  become  a  State  weapon  for 
internal  defence.  The  Jacobin  Government,  by  its  constitu- 
tion and  origin,  is  obliged  to  concede  to  the  country  a  certain 
degree  of  intellectual  liberty  ;  it  cannot  rule  despotically  like 
the  Russian.  In  order  to  suppress  and  efface  the  tradition  of 
liberty  which  it  itself  introduced  into  the  Italian  State,  it 
would  need  to  be  very  strong.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  were 


270  MILITARISM 

thus  strong  it  would  have  no  more  need  than  the  French  to 
suppress  the  liberties  of  press,  speech,  and  meeting.  At  the 
same  time  it  has  to  contrive  so  that  this  regime  of  freedom 
should  not  prove  too  favourable  to  its  enemies.  In  this 
state  of  things  we  perceive  the  contradictory  character  of  the 
Italian  Government.  It  has  established  a  regime  of  liberty 
j/based  on  periodical  epochs  of  military  dictatorship.  The 
Italian  army  has  become  the  tool  of  these  intermittent 
dictatorships,  which  grow  more  and  more  necessary  to  protect 
the  State  against  those  periodical  crises  to  which  it  is  falling 
a  victim.  The  first  great  experiment  of  this  order  was  made 
in  the  spring  of  1898,  when,  owing  to  the  famine  riots,  half 
of  Italy  was  declared  in  a  state  of  siege,  the  constitution 
suspended,  military  law  declared,  and  the  officers  charged  to 
decimate  the  ranks  of  the  opposition  (the  socialists  and 
clerical  more  especially)  by  a  series  of  arbitrary  trials  whose 
absurdity  and  extravagance  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 
Criminals,  vagabonds,  honest  workmen,  loyal  and  courageous 
writers,  priests,  monks,  even  merchants,  political  men,  and 
deputies — more  than  5000  men  in  all — were,  in  the  course  of 
two  months,  brought  before  the  military  tribunals,  tried,  and 
condemned  in  hot  haste,  without  any  preliminary  examination, 
frequently  condemned  for  offences  not  written  in  the  penal 
code  to  punishments  not  assigned  there.  Then  by  slow 
degrees  things  resumed  their  natural  course,  and  the  regime 
of  semi-liberty  which  Italy  enjoys  by  degrees  returned.  The 
unjust  sentences  of  the  courts-martial  are  gradually  cancelled 
by  royal  pardons  and  amnesties,  for  which  the  excuses  are 
found  in  regal  birthdays,  and,  once  all  the  men  are  liberated, 
national  life  will  return  to  its  pristine  calm  until  the  next 
convulsion. 

Until  several  important  reforms  will  have  been  made,  the 


THE  MILITARY  OUTLOOK  SAf  ITALY  271 

Italian  Government  will  be  compelled  periodically  to  rouse 
itself  from  its  habitual  apathy  to  these  attacks  of  dictatorial 
cruelty,  during  which  it  will  endeavour  to  frighten  its  enemies, 
red  and  black,  socialist  and  clerical,  threatening  them  with 
the  sword  which  twenty-five  years  ago  it  forged,  according  to  its 
own  saying,  in  order  to  spill  foreign  blood.  For  this  reason  we 
need  not  fear  that  the  peace  of  Europe  will  be  disturbed  by 
Italy.  Nevertheless,  any  initiative  for  partial  disarmament, 
whether  it  come  from  the  Pope,  the  Czar,  or  any  other 
powerful  personage,  will  always  meet  with  a  cold  or  hostile 
reception,  whether  open  or  covert,  from  the  Italian  Govern- 
ment. Although  it  has  no  longer  any  desire  to  wage  war,  - 
neither  does  it  wish  to  discontent  the  military  class,  of  whom 
it  stands  in  need  periodically  to  strike  and  weaken  its 
enemies  in  order  to  prolong  its  own  infirm  existence,  and 
to  postpone,  as  long  as  it  may,  the  reforms  necessary  to  its 
cure. 


MILITARISM   IN   ENGLAND  AND 
GERMANY 


CHAPTER   IX 

MILITARISM   IN   ENGLAND  AND  GERMANY 

I 

FRANCE  is  a  bellicose  country,  Germany  a  military  :  herein 
lies  the  essential  difference  between  the  two  hostile  and  rival 
nations. 

If  we  disregard  the  number  of  soldiers  each  nation  keeps 
under  arms,  and  consider  only  the  popularity  of  the  ideas  and 
sentiments  of  military  glory  that  prevail  among  the  educated 
classes  of  the  respective  countries,  the  Germans  are  immedi- 
ately found  to  be  less  warlike  than  the  French.  The  barrack 
of  Germany,  the  country  in  which  military  traditions  are 
oldest  and  strongest,  is  Prussia  ;  but  though  the  whole  of 
Prussian  society  looks  as  though  it  had  been  moulded  in  a 
barrack,  the  bellicose  spirit  in  the  upper  and  middle  classes  is, 
and  was  always,  feeble.  From  Frederick  the  Great  to  Bismarck, 
Prussia  only  fought  in  the  wars  against  Napoleon.  Not  much 
for  a  truly  bellicose  nation  which  desired  to  reap  military 
trophies.  From  1815  to  1863  Prussia  stood  aside,  contenting 
herself  with  a  humble  position  that  was  somewhat  humiliating 
at  times,  as,  for  instance,  under  William  and  Frederick  IV., 
when  it  tolerated  the  public  interference  of  Tzar  Nicholas  I. 
with  its  home  politics.  How,  then,  would  it  be  possible  to 
affirm  that  a  people,  which  allowed  its  Government  so  to 

S    2 


276  MILITARISM 

debase  national  dignity,  possessed  any  great  passion  for 
military  glory  ? 

Bismarck's  new  policy  became  necessary — and  herein  lies 
one  of  his  principal  merits — in  order  to  reanimate  by  some 
dignified  sentiment  the  debased  soul,  first  of  the  Prussians,  and 
afterwards  of  the  Germans.  But  Bismarck  was  a  cause  of  alarm 
to  all — to  the  Prussian  nobility,  and  in  a  yet  greater  degree 
to  the  people,  so  frightened  were  these  timid  folk  at  his  bold 
and  aggressive  rule.  Thus  he  was  forced  to  lead  them  all  by 
force — court  and  parliament,  nobility  and  people — to  the  war 
of  1866,  the  only  war  absolutely  necessary  to  the  social 
progress  of  Germany,  the  great  political  creation  of  Bismarck. 
But  this,  too,  was  not  a  war  of  conquest,  Its  real  object  was 
to  strengthen  the  union  of  the  various  German  States,  and 
to  exclude  Austria  from  the  German  Confederation — that 
country  without  original  character,  without  nationality,  with- 
out any  political  reputation  beyond  intrigues,  makeshifts,  and 
diplomatic  tricks.  Had  the  German  States  always  been  com- 
pelled to  tolerate  the  interference  of  this  mean  and  petty 
government,  they  would  never  have  been  able  to  manage  their 
affairs  with  that  liberty  which  is  indispensable  to  any  real 
progress.  And  yet  the  German  people  were  actively  hostile  to 
this  war,  which  was  so  necessary  in  order  to  cut  the  Gordian 
knot  of  diplomatic  and  political  problems,  so  feeble  were  their 
warlike  tendencies. 

A  still  more  remarkable  indication  of  public  feeling  consists 
in  the  fact  that  the  Germans  never  allowed  themselves  to  be 
inebriated  by  their  victories  in  1870.  The  unexpected  great- 
ness of  the  triumph  did  not  suffice  to  extinguish  the  old"  love 
of  peace  and  tranquillity.  At  first  it  seemed  to  rouse  a  passion 
for  war  in  the  people ;  but  this  rapidly  dispersed  in  smoke, 
despite  Bismarck's  efforts  to  fan  this  commencement  of  fire. 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND   AND    GERMANY      2J? 

No  unprejudiced  person  travelling  in  Germany  can  fail  to  be 
surprised  at  the  feeble  enthusiasm  which  survives  for  the  two 
victories  of  1870.  Even  the  French  are  astounded.  Indeed, 
one  of  their  most  famous  writers  told  me,  that  what  struck 
him  more  than  anything  else  in  Berlin  was,  that  he  saw  there 
a  much  smaller  number  of  pictures,  engravings,  and  illus- 
trations of  the  war  than  were  to  be  found  in  the  Parisian 
shops.  The  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  the  war  passed  amidst 
general  indifference  :  the  people  scarcely  raised  their  heads  a 
moment  from  their  work  to  watch  the  processions  of  soldiers 
passing  in  the  streets.  What  did  these  processions  recall  to 
their  minds  other  than  an  historical  recollection  ?  In  fact,  the 
armour  with  which  Bismarck  invested  her  weighs  heavily  on 
the  shoulders  of  Germany,  who  cannot  rid  herself  of  it  as 
she  would  desire,  because  modern  militarism  is  an  armour  so  j  .'kjr 
curiously  constructed  that  a  people  can  easily  don  it,  but 
once  on,  it  is  with  difficulty  cast  off. 

In  no  country  is  the  treatment  of  soldiers  by  their  officers 
so  continually  controlled  by  the  press  as  in  Germany.  The 
denunciations  of  brutalities  committed  in  barracks  are  fre- 
quent and  virulent.  The  sovereigns  of  various  German  States 
have  been  compelled,  owing  to  these  press  protests,  to 
charge  the  heads  of  the  army  to  keep  their  officers  under 
proper  control.  In  no  other  great  European  country  has 
funds  for  military  purposes  been  so  difficult  to  obtain. 
While  in  France,  ever  since  1870,  the  Government  has  obtained 
milliards  of  francs  from  the  parliament  for  the  asking,  merely 
stating  that  it  was  necessary  for  the  national  defence, 
Germany  has  always  provided  money  for  military  purposes 
with  a  reluctance  which  grows  with  the  increase  of  her 
wealth.  Bismarck  succeeded  several  times  after  1870  in 
persuading  the  country  that  more  money  was  needed  for 


278  MILITARISM 

military  uses,  but  at  the  cost  of  endless  disputes  with  the 
Reichstag,  and  by  alarming  the  public  with  terrible  tales  of 
the  approaching  wars  of  reconquest.  In  no  other  country 
is  such  an  energetic  crusade  made  by  the  press,  which 
represents  the  upper  classes,  against  duels.  So  strong  was 
this  crusade  that  the  Emperor  William  was  compelled  to 
publish  an  edict  regulating  and  controlling  the  practice  among 
officers.  Propaganda  against  duelling  is  a  sign  of  aversion 
to  militarism  ;  so  distinctive  a  sign,  indeed,  that  the  present 
aspect  of  public  opinion  in  Germany  very  much  resembles 
that  in  England  during  the  first  half  of  this  century. 

But  however  true  it  may  be  that  public  feeling  is  not 
bellicose  in  Germany,  and  that  anti-military  tendencies  are 
strong,  it  is  none  the  less  a  fact  that  the  constitution  of 
Germany  has  a  more  military  character  than  that  of  almost 
any  other  European  society.  Soldiers  occupy  the  most 
important  positions  in  the  official  world.  The  military  class 
is  a  class  apart.  Officers  lead  a  separate  existence  ;  they  have 
their  own  habits,  laws,  jurisdiction,  and  almost  a  weltanschaung 
all  their  own ;  they  take  more  part  in  civil  government  than 
in  other  countries.  Thus,  while  in  France  you  can  find  a 
bourgeois  minister  of  war,  in  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  civil 
ministries  are  to  be  found  directed  by  generals,  notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  officers  on  active  service  have  not  the  right 
of  suffrage.  Bismarck  was  originally  a  doctor  of  law,  who  had 
only  fulfilled  the  ordinary  period  of  military  service,  and  yet, 
when  it  was  wished  to  consecrate  his  high  position  in  the 
State,  he  had  to  be  made  a  general ;  and  in  a  general's  uniform 
he  was  wont  to  make  his  appearance  in  the  Reichstag.  The 
second  chancellor  was  also  a  general.  All  the  citizens  belong- 
ing to  the  landivehr,  or  reserve  list,  have  to  appear  in  uniform 
at  official  ceremonies.  At  the  inauguration  of  the  new 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND   GERMANY      279 

Reichstag  palace  the  president  actually  appeared  in  the 
uniform  of  a  landivehr  major.  The  German  emperor  always 
appears  surrounded  by  swarms  of  generals  at  official 
ceremonies,  and  sometimes  he  has  even  criticized  the  conduct 
of  the  Reichstag  at  a  military  assembly. 


II 

In  England,  on  the  other  hand,  militarism  is  reduced  to  a 
minimum. 

Let  it  be  understood,  however,  that  militarism  being 
reduced  to  a  minimum  does  not  signify  the  lack  of  an  army 
or  inconsiderable  military  expenses.  The  English  land 
forces  are  not  very  numerous  (they  number  little  more  than 
200,000  men),  but  to  make  up,  they  are  the  most  expen- 
sive in  Europe,  costing  the  nation  an  annual  sum  of 
from  £18,000,000  to  £20,000,000.  The  navy  costs  from 
£14,000,000  to  £16,000,000.  The  total  military  expenditure 
thus  stands  annually  at  from  £32,000,000  to  £36,000,000. 

Neither  is  there  a  lack  of  admiration  for  military  display, 
which  is  proper  to  all  countries  possessing  a  strong  military 
reputation.  From  certain  points  of  view  this  feeling  is 
stronger  in  England  than  in  France,  because  the  army  has 
preserved,  in  a  sense,  a  more  aristocratic  constitution.  The 
grade  of  officers  has  remained  much  what  it  was  in  France 
before  the  Revolution,  i.e.  a  privilege  of  the  rich.  Before 
1870  commissions  were  bought  and  sold. 

Under  Gladstone's  first  ministry  the  purchase  system  was 
abolished,  but  this  has  not  greatly  altered  matters.  Regimental 
life  is  still  so  extravagant  and  showy,  that  an  officer's  mere 
pay  does  not  suffice  to  maintain  his  position.  The  mess, 
which  ought  to  be  an  economical  system,  has  become  a  most 


2§0  MILITARISM- 

luxurious  affair,  in  which  officers  vie  with  each  other  in 
extravagance. 

To  be  an  officer,  more  especially  in  certain  regiments,  is  a 
diploma  of  elegance,  a  distinction  which  attracts  the  sons  of 
rich  and  noble  families.  Among  the  people  there  is  the 
same  silly  ambition  to  wear  a  showy  uniform  as  in  conti- 
nental countries.  Hence  the  uniforms  of  the  English  army  are 
the  absurdest  and  most  eccentric  in  the  world.  Lord  Wolseley 
has  said  that  the  British  soldier  needs  to  wear  a  grotesque 
uniform  in  order  to  rouse  admiration  in  the  breasts  of 
members  of  both  sexes.  On  the  enlistment  posters  displayed 
at  every  street  corner  in  London,  the  fact  that  the  cooking  is 
good  and  the  uniform  attractive  is  never  left  unmentioned. 

If  the  middle  classes  do  not  entertain  the  same  vulgar 
admiration  for  the  uniform  as  does  the  populace,  even  if  they 
do  not  regard  the  career  of  an  officer  as  a  particularly 
desirable  one,  they  are  not  the  less  Jingo  on  this  account.  The 
victories  of  the  British  army,  even  over  some  little  African 
monarch,  lend  prestige  to  the  Government  in  power,  for  the 
public  mind  is  distinctly  bourgeois.  In  no  country  have  so 
many  monuments  been  raised  to  generals,  or  so  many 
histories  of  wars  been  written,  as  in  England  ;  few  other 
countries  are  so  proud  of  their  military  history  or  their  naval 
power.  Bellicose  outbreaks  of  public  feeling  are  not  rare. 
There  was  one  in  1878  during  the  Russo-Turkish  war,  and 
another  one  is  now  in  full  swing. 


Ill 

And  yet,  of  all  European  countries,  England  is  the  one 
where  militarism  is  reduced  to  a  minimum,  because  the 
military  class  does  not  possess  a  code  of  morality  of  its  own, 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND  GERMANY    281 

nor  any  special  laws  or  manner  of  life.  An  officer  is  merely 
a  Government  official,  like  an  employe  of  the  Minister  of 
Finance,  or  public-school  inspector.  He  is  in  no  manner  dis- 
tinguishable from  them ;  he  observes  the  same  laws  and 
customs.  Only  his  office  is  different,  because,  instead  of 
looking  after  accounts  or  inspecting  schools,  he  is  expected  to 
lead  soldiers  under  fire  with  firmness  and  courage. 

In  the  officers,  who  represent  of  course  the  better  educated 
portion  of  the  army,  this  civilian  tendency  is  marked.  While 
in  continental  Europe  it  is  considered  a  special  duty  for  a 
soldier  never  to  refuse  a  duel,  in  England  it  is  regarded  as 
disgraceful  for  him  to  fight  a  duel  as  for  any  other  well- 
conducted  person.  The  old  barrack  code  no  longer  holds 
good,  with  its  strict  rules  concerning  the  personal  relations  of 
one  officer  to  another.  These  are  taking  the  form  of  the 
ordinary  relations  between  gentlemen,  who  do  not  command 
one  another,  but  politely  request  the  performance  of  certain 
services.  The  mess  does  not  live  enclosed  in  a  barrack ;  it 
opens  its  doors  and  windows  to  the  world  ;  it  gives  balls  and 
entertainments,  organizes  parties  and  pleasure  trips.  Officers 
of  all  ranks  preside  in  turn.  Within  its  precincts  there  are  no 
longer  superiors  and  inferiors,  but  only  men  of  the  world, 
comrades  disciplined  by  the  common  sentiment  of  professional 
duty.  The  English  officer  scarcely  possesses  a  special 
uniform ;  he  has  dropped  his  livery.  While  Italian,  French, 
and  German  officers  have  a  special  uniform  which  they  have 
to  wear  always  when  moving  in  the  midst  of  their  fellow- 
citizens,  the  English  officer  only  wears  his  on  duty.  Each 
day  when  his  barrack  duty  is  over,  he  returns  home,  puts  on 
civilian  dress,  and  in  civilian  dress  goes  into  society. 
Uniform  is  for  him  not  a  class  uniform,  but  a  profession 
one,  like  a  judge's  gown  and  a  clergyman's  surplice — a 


282  MILITARISM 

costume  which  is  donned  from  time  to  time  to  fulfil  a  duty, 
not  to  represent  a  caste.  This  fact  alone  proves  that  the 
army  in  England  is  a  profession  not  a  caste. 

The  same  thing  on  a  lesser  scale  is  to  be  observed  among 
the  soldiers — a  more  boorish  and  ignorant  class.  The 
English  soldier  is  not  recruited  by  conscription,  but  is  a 
volunteer  who  enlists  for  a  given  period,  lasting  rarely  less 
than  ten  years,  and  who  receive  a  minimum  pay  of  a  shilling 
a  day.  He  adopts  soldiering  as  a  trade  to  earn  a  livelihood. 
And  yet  this  military  and  caste  spirit  is  not  so  strong  in  the 
English  as  in  other  European  temporary  soldiers.  Their 
feelings,  their  relations  to  superiors,  are  much  like  those  of 
ordinary  workers.  English  barracks  have  lost  much  of  that 
odious  character,  a  cut  between  a  monastery  and  a  prison. 
They  more  and  more  resemble  the  traditional  cottage,  under 
whose  roof  English  families  live  and  work  in  all  parts  of  the 
glebe.  It  consists  of  small  pavilions,  surrounded  by  little 
gardens,  and  cheered  by  the  green  of  vegetation,  and  by 
all  manner  of  games,  such  as  cricket,  football,  and  lawn-tennis. 

The  canteens  are  not  the  brutal  taverns  they  are  in  con- 
tinental countries,  but  species  of  clubs  whose  profits  are 
divided  among  the  soldiers ;  and  where  these  are  not  only 
furnished  with  food  and  drink,  but  with  books,  papers,  games, 
and  even  small  theatrical  entertainments.  The  soldier,  too, 
wishes  to  take  his  share  of  the  comfort  of  bourgeois  life 
of  those  luxuries  which  industrial  progress  places  within 
reach  of  the  workers.  The  life  he  aims  at  is  not  that  of 
European  armies,  but  of  the  British  workman.  As  his 
conditions  improve,  so  do  his  pretensions — the  better  he  wishes 
to  eat,  to  dress,  to  be  lodged.  When  he  is  discontented  he 
combines  with  his  comrades,  and  they  go  on  strike  like  other 
workers;  and  discipline  does  not  threaten  such  strikes  with 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND   AND   GERMANY      283 

the  terrible  punishments  that  would  be  meted  out  in  con- 
tinental countries.  Thus,  also,  the  relations  between  soldiers 
and  officers  are  not  the  harsh  ones  of  slave  to  master  which 
they  are  in  other  armies.  They  are  the  relations  between 
men  and  men  ;  where  superiority  of  education  is  recognized  by 
reasonable  subordinates  ;  where  it  is  enforced  on  riotous  ones 
by  means  of  chastisement  both  barbarous  and  familiar — the 
cat-o'-nine-tails. 

English  militarism  is  bourgeois,  and  observes  the  bourgeois 
moral  code  ;  it  is  a  profession  like  any  other.  Nor  does  this 
special  characteristic  appear  to  have  rendered  it  inferior  to 
other  armies,  in  any  case  as  far  as  the  valour  of  the  soldiers  is 
concerned,  for  during  this  whole  century — in  Asia,  in  Africa, 
and  in  Europe,  at  the  siege  of  Sebastopol  as  in  the  cam- 
paign against  King  Cetewayo — these  regiments,  made  up  of 
all  the  ne'er-do-wells,  all  the  scrapegraces  and  vagabonds  of 
the  United  Kingdom,  have  displayed  unflinching  calm  and 
courage.  Although  the  English  army  has  often  been  badly 
led  by  incapable  generals,  it  has  always  displayed  great  courage 
in  its  common  ranks,  who  rarely  give  way  to  vulgar  terror,  the 
result  of  their  excellent  professional  education,  which  teaches 
them  a  necessity  of  their  trade,  never  to  be  afraid,  just  as  a 
postman  learns  to  walk  quickly.  This  education  meets  with 
the  better  success  because  as  the  soldiers  all  enlist  voluntarily 
they  mostly  consist  of  men  who  feel  some  natural  aptitude 
for  the  life.  An  army  recruited  from  volunteers  has  a  greater 
chance  of  consisting  of  men  to  whom  courage  is  easy  ;  so 
that  the  English  army,  if  it  is  largely  composed  of  soldiers 
whose  requirements,  even  in  time  of  war,  strike  their 
European  brothers-in-arms  as  absurdly  luxurious,  is  neverthe- 
less composed  of  soldiers  who  are  not  inclined  to  run  away, 
a  fact  which  is  not  without  importance. 


284  MILITARISM 


IV 

Thus  soldiers  form  a  caste  in  Germany,  whose  power  is 
more  composed  and  controlled  by  public  opinion  than 
in  France.  In  England  they  no  longer  form  a  caste,  but 
a  special  branch  of  the  bureaucracy  that  is  entirely  in  the 
service  of  the  civil  authorities  :  a  class  that  does  not  give 
orders  but  receives  them,  which  follows  the  policy  of  the 
civil  Government  but  does  not  direct  it. 

To  what  can  we  attribute  this  condition  of  things,  so 
different  from  what  we  have  observed  in  France  and  Italy  ? 
To  one  sole  cause :  in  England,  to  the  existence  of  an  inde- 
pendent, well-to-do,  and  educated  middle  class,  which  directs 
the  Government  and  executive  by  means  of  parliament  and 
numerous  organs  of  public  opinion,  and  formulates  and 
modifies  the  existing  moral  code ;  in  Germany,  to  the  daily 
growth  of  this  class,  whose  every  progress  is  a  progress  in 
bourgeois  morality,  and  a  fresh  step  towards  the  decadence 
of  militarism.  In  both  countries  this  class  is  composed  of 
those  who  live  comfortably  by  industries,  commerce,  and 
intellectual  professions  independently  of  governmental  aid  : 
such  as  the  directors  of  factories  and  businesses,  rich  mer- 
chants, manufacturers,  and  business  men,  professors,  journal- 
ists, etc.  Protestantism  has  practically  abolished  Church 
protection  in  Germany  and  England  since  the  sixteenth 
1  century.  It  has  destroyed  monasticism,  an  oriental  institu- 
tion which  has  very  largely  contributed  to  enervate  the 
bourgeoisie  in  Latin  countries.  Since  this  date  this  class  has 
had  to  depend  principally  on  its  own  resources  in  England 
and  Germany.  These  countries  now  receive  their  reward 
for  any  sufferings  this  may  have  caused  in  past  times, 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND   GERMANY     285 

because  we  find  in  them  to-day  those  conditions  which, 
according  to  the  keen  observation  of  Gaetano  Mosca,  are 
most  necessary  to  the  exercise  of  a  free  government.  He 
writes  :  "  No  condition  is  better  suited  to  the  relative  perfection 
of  the  political  organization  of  a  society,  than  the  existence 
of  a  numerous  class  economically  independent  of  those  who  ^ 
are  in  power  —  a  class  sufficiently  well-to-do  to  be  able  to  devote 
part  of  its  leisure  to  improving  its  mind  and  to  take  an 
interest  in  public  concerns,  an  almost  aristocratic  sentiment 
I  might  call  it,  which  alone  leads  men  to  serve  their  country 
for  the  mere  satisfaction  of  their  amour-propre.  In  all 
countries  in  the  vanguard  of  freedom,  such  a  class  is  to  be 
found."  l  This  class,  owing  to  its  being  distinctly  bourgeois, 
although  it  may  be  willing  to  make  use  of  a  military  class 
in  case  of  need,  naturally  conceives  life  very  differently  to 
professional  soldiers,  and  therefore,  as  its  power  augments, 
it  invariably  comes  into  conflict  with  the  military  caste,  and 
seeks  to  weaken  it  as  in  Germany.  When  in  the  end  the 
bourgeoisie  become  masters  of  the  State,  they  transform  the 
military  class  into  a  profession  dependent  on  the  Government  / 
as  in  England.  The  decline  of  militarism  is  everywhere  con- 
nected with  the  rise  of  this  bourgeois  class,  which  introduces 
V  a  mercantile  spirit  of  calculation  into  every  branch  of 
life,  and  which,  though  it  may  be  accessible  to  bellicose  & 
enthusiasm,  is  too  intensely  utilitarian  ever,  in  the  most 
heated  moments,  to  lose  sight  of  its  monetary  interests. 
Hence,  in  those  countries  where  this  class  is  in  power,  war 
loses  any  romantic  character  of  poetical  glory,  and  becomes 
merely  a  matter  of  £  s.  d.  But  from  the  moment  that 
a  people  looks  upon  war  as  a  mere  matter  of  business,  it  ;^ 
rapidly  becomes  pacific,  so  far  as  other  European  nations  are 

1  G.  Mosca,  "  Element!  di  Scienza  Politica,"  p.  153  (1896). 


& 


286  MILITARISM 

concerned,  because  the  risk  of  such  an  undertaking  would  be 
too  great  in  proportion  to  its  advantages.  The  policy  of  the 
country  consequently  becomes  prudent  and  cautious.  These 
nations,  then,  even  if  they  preserve  or  augment  their  armies, 
regard  them  merely  as  a  defensive  weapon  as  does  Germany, 
or  make  use  of  them  for  distant  wars  in  barbarous  countries 
as  does  England.  After  the  fall  of  Napoleon,  England  has 
only  taken  part  in  one  European  war,  the  Crimean  ;  since 
when  it  has  grown  more  and  more  cautious,  and  more  disposed 
to  resort  to  diplomacy  than  to  arms. 


V 

In  a  certain  portion  of  the  German  people  these  conditions 
take  the  shape  of  an  anti-military  feeling,  which  is  much 
stronger  than  in  England,  because  both  the  Prussian  and  the 

(  Imperial  Government  have  an  aristocratic  constitution.  The 
German  State  is  neither  lay  nor  democratic  ;  it  is  ruled  by 

Ttwo  equal  forces,  legislative  power  and  a  civil  and  military 
bureaucracy.  The  ministers  are  chosen  by  the  king- 
emperor  from  any  class  he  pleases  ;  and  they  remain  in 
office  until  it  suits  the  sovereign  to  dismiss  them.  A  parlia- 
mentary vote  does  not  suffice  to  depose  them.  As  the 
ministers  are  at  the  head  of  the  bureaucracy,  this  depends 
on  them,  and  therefore  on  the  sovereign.  Consequently  the 
monarchy  act  and  work  in  accordance  with  laws  made  by 
the  assemblies  elected  by  the  people,  but  is  not  under  their 
control.  In  other  words,  whereas  in  France  the  bureaucracy 
is  theoretically  controlled  by  the  ministers  elected  by  parlia- 
ment, and  emanates  from  the  people's  will,  in  Germany  it 
professes  to  emanate  from  God  by  the  will  of  the  sovereign, 
the  king  of  Prussia  and  German  emperor,  who  is  at  the  head 


V 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND   GERMANY      287 

of  the  Lutheran  Church.  Thus  unconverted  Jews  are  excluded 
from  many  posts  in  this  bureaucracy,  which  professes  to  be 
strictly  Christian.  The  army  is  naturally  its  most  important 
department. 

Now,  in  a  society  thus  organized,  if  anti-militarism  were 
not  very  strong  in  the  educated  bourgeois  class,  the  power  of 
the  army  and  bureaucracy  would  rapidly  degenerate  into  a 
tyranny.  France  may  adore  her  soldier,  and  be  happy  to  be 
ill-treated  by  him,  like  certain  hysterical  women  who  are  fond 
of  brutal  lovers  who  beat  them.  The  French  army  depends 
theoretically  on  the  minister  of  war,  who  is  dependent  on 
parliament,  and  if  this  power  is  smaller  in  practice  than 
it  is  in  theory,  the  fault  lies,  not  with  the  constitution, 
but  with  the  men.  England  is  similarly  situated.  But  in 
Germany,  on  the  other  hand,  whatever  abuses  the  army 
might  commit,  the  Reichstag  would  be  impotent  to  reform 
it,  and  it  would  remain  with  the  army  to  decide  to  alter 
itself.  Civil  society  would  have  no  power  to  enforce  the  rigl 
of  reason  and  morality  against  the  usurpation  of  the  military  J 
class. 

Therefore  a  latent  spirit  of  hostility,  in  the  educated  class^ 
towards  militarism  and  war,  is  necessary  in  Germany,  to 
control  the  strong  desire  of  the  army  to  supersede  civil 
power.  If  a  war,  or  foolish  prejudices  like  those  of  the 
French  people,  were  to  augment  the  moral  power  of  the 
army,  the  constitutional  regime  would  easily  degenerate  into  ft 
a  military  tyranny.  Peace,  therefore,  is  an  essential  condition 
to  liberty  in  Germany.  If  Germany  wished  to  oppress  other 
nations  by  force  of  arms,  it  would  itself  be  punished  by 
falling  a  victim  to  a  military  despotism.  And  as  the  desire 
for  freedom  is  strong  in  Germany,  thanks  to  the  strength 
and  number  of  the  independent  bourgeoisie,  military 


288  MILITARISM 

fanaticism  is  not  so  rampant  there  as  in  France.  Therefore, 
paradoxical  as  the  assertion  may  appear,  Germany  is  not 
a  bellicose  nation,  because  the  constitution  of  its  Government 
is  very  military. 


VI 

But  it  will  be  objected,  this  large,  well-to-do,  and  educated 
middle  class  exists  also  in  France  :  why  does  it  not  therefore 
slowly  undermine  militarism  as  in  England  ?  Because  in 
France  it  is  slave,  not  master,  of  the  Jacobin  State,  and  it  is 
to  the  interest  of  the  Government  to  propagate  warlike  sen- 
timents. The  independent  bourgeoisie  is  less  strong  in  France 
than  in  England  and  Germany,  because  Caesarism  ties  it  in 
a  great  part  to  the  Government,  to  its  traditions  and  prin- 
ciples ;  and  those  few  who  are  not  thus  tied  can  do  little. 
Thus  inertia  favours  these  traditions,  and  prolongs,  to  the 
detriment  of  France  and  Europe,  that  militarism  which  is 
a  mere  anachronism  to-day,  the  shadow  of  something  which 
once  had  life  and  being.  The  traditions  survive,  but  grow 
feebler  from  day  to  day,  whether  it  be  that  public  opinion  is 
modifying  in  France,  or  that  the  spiritual  and  social  con- 
ditions of  the  rest  of  Europe  indirectly  influence  his. 

But  in  France,  at  least,  the  middle  class,  though  the  slave 
of  the  Government — which  it  obeys  instead  of  guiding — lives 
under  materially  and  morally  good  conditions  ;  and  while  a 
few  may  grow  unjustly  rich,  the  majority  are  not  reduced  to 
such  a  wretched  and  squalid  condition  as  to  render  odious 
to  them  the  Government  under  which  they  live.  Thus  the 
bourgeoisie  preserves  sufficient  enthusiasm  for  those  military 
ideals  which  still  play  such  an  important  part  in  French 
politics  ;  and  though  it  be  frondeuse  and  discontented,  it  is 


MILITARISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND   GERMANY     289 

neither  sceptical  nor  so  embittered  by  its  conditions  as  to 
grow  revolutionary  and  anti-patriotic. 

Italy,  on  the  other  hand,  lacks  the  independent  bourgeoisie 
which  prospers  in  England  and  Germany  ;  the  middle  class 
is  tied  down  to  the  Government  as  in  France.  Thus  it  lacks 
all  influence  to  modify  the  political  traditions  that  govern  the 
country.  Although  these  traditions  are  recent,  shallow,  and 
unpopular,  nevertheless  they  drag  on  through  lack  of  any 
contrary  influence  to  destroy  them.  Supported  as  they  are 
by  the  Court  and  a  few  groups  of  interested  men,  who  avail 
themselves  of  universal  sloth  and  stupidity,  they  drag  on 
more  through  general  inertia  than  any  essential  virtue  of 
their  own.  But  the  middle  class  is  declining  in  Italy,  slowly  ^ 
ruined  by  the  increase  of  population,  and  by  the  reckless 
waste  committed  during  the  last  thirty  years  by  the  rising 
and  thoughtless  Italian  Csesarism,  by  the  Government's  policy. 
The  middle  class  being  reduced  to  such  a  miserable  condition, 
corrupted  by  having  to  beg  their  bread  of  those  in  power, 
degraded  and  exhausted  by  the  hard  work  they  are  forced 
to  endure  and  the  poor  remuneration  they  receive,  by  the 
emptiness  of  an  existence  rich  only  in  mendacious  appear- 
ances, this  class  degenerates  into  a  state  of  bitter  scepticism. 
It  grows  to  hate  the  Government,  or,  worse  still,  grows  in- 
different towards  it.  A  middle  class  in  such  a  dangerous 
moral  state,  passing  through  so  terrible  a  period  of  passion 
and  unrest,  cannot  be  the  creator  of  a  militarism  that  has. 
any  chance  of  success,  nor  indeed,  anything  else  of  a  serious 
kind,  so  that  Italian  militarism  is  nothing  but  an  expensive  y 
lie,  which  can  bring  only  shame  and  injury  to  the  country. 

Such,  in  broad  outline,  the  picture  of  European  militarism, 
from  the  English,  a  mere  profession,  to  the  Italian,  a  mere 
appearance. 

T 


PAX    CHRISTIANA 


CHAPTER  X 
TAX   CHRISTIANA 


WE  have  studied  the  military  constitution  of  some  of  the 
principal  European  States,  and  seen  how  it  corresponds  to 
certain  requirements  and  characteristics  of  the  societies  them- 
selves. But  though  these  armies  have  an  internal  social 
function,  they  have  also  an  external  one — they  are  organized  to 
serve  against  each  other.  The  whole  military  organization  of 
Europe  necessarily  presupposes  one  or  more  reasons  of  rivalry 
between  the  Governments,  on  account  of  which  they  are  every 
now  and  then  led  mutually  to  attack  or  defend  themselves. 

Economic  rivalry  is  considered  by  many  as  the  chief  cause 
of  conflict,  that  mania  for  wealth  which  torments  all  European 
nations,  on  whose  account  all  seek  to  conquer  new  colonies 
and  open  fresh  markets.  It  is  commonly  believed  that  this 
rivalry  must  ultimately  lead  to  a  terrible  conflict,  whose 
dimensions  and  consequences  it  is  difficult  to  conceive.  Are 
these /ears  legitimate  and  reasonable,  or  are  they  merely  a 
survival  of  ancient  ideas  no  longer  corresponding  to  the 
necessities  of  the  age  ? 

Doubtless,  one  of  the  most  general  features  of  history  is, 
as  we  have  observed,  the  desire  of  a  small  number  of  men  to 
accumulate  wealth.  We  have  seen  that  wars  in  ancient  times 
were  nearly  all  directly  or  indirectly  caused  by  the  efforts  of 


294  MILITARISM 

these  minorities,  who  ruled  society,  to  enrich  themselves,  in 
an  age  when  capital  had  small  reproductive  power.  Is  it  to 
be  supposed  that  human  greed  will  lead  to  the  same  results 
amongst  the  nations  of  to-day  ?  Or  is  it  not  more  probable, 
on  the  contrary,  that  by  slow  and  uncertain  stages  a  novas 
ordo  of  human  things  is  beginning  for  the  civilized  world  ?  It 
is  as  difficult  to  a  man  to  realize  the  full  importance  of  events 
in  whose  midst  he  lives,  as  for  a  traveller  to  realize  the 
motion  of  his  conveyance.  Things  often  appear  mere  trifles 
to  contemporaries  which,  by  their  descendants,  will  be  judged 
as  events  of  prime  importance  ;  for  great  historical  events  are 
like  the  facades  of  monumental  cathedrals,  that  can  only  be 
understood  in  their  entirety  when  seen  from  a  distance.  Most 
people  think  that  we  are  living  in  an  age  like  any  other,  which 
will  merge  into  the  course  of  time,  just  as  the  hours  which 
have  preceded  it,  and  those  which  will  follow.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  we  are  living  perhaps  in  an  age  that  is  witnessing 
the  greatest  social  and  moral  revolution  history  has  ever 
chronicled.  Those  who  regard  the  introduction  of  machinery 
as  the  chief  characteristic  of  our  century,  show  that  they  have 
only  looked  at  things  from  a  superficial  point  of  view,  and 
understood  nothing  but  the  external  features  of  the  great 
moral  revolution,  which  is  the  real  work,  whether  enduring  or 
temporary,  of  our  time,  thanks  to  which  the  ruling  classes 
have  at  last  realized  that  it  is  their  duty  to  take  their  share  in 
the  work  of  civilization. 

In  the  past,  nearly  the  whole  responsibility  of  the  work 
whereon  the  life  of  society  depended,  was  left  to  the  ignorant 
peasant  and  humble  artisan,  compelled  by  force  to  provide 
the  leisure  of  their  ignorant  and  stupid  masters  with  pleasures. 
Nowadays,  on  the  contrary,  the  ruling  class  collaborates 
-  with  the  masses  in  working,  and  although  it  is  frequently 


•    •• 
PAX  CHRISTIANA  295 

overpaid,  and  often  squanders  the  people's  strength  in  creating 
unreal  wealth,  nevertheless  it  notably  enchances  the  universal 
activity.  England,  Germany,  America,  and,  in  a  minor  degree, 
France  and  Italy — all  civilized  nations,  in  short — are  no  longer 
governed  by  oligarchies  of  idle  sybarites,  but  by  social  groups  ; 
who  direct,  more  or  less  efficiently,  the  work  of  society. 

Owing  to  this  change,  it  was  possible  that  between  societies 
which  for  thirty  centuries  had  not  ceased  for  an  instant  to 
persecute  one  another  with  wars,  a  sudden  desire  for  peace 
should  grow  up :  a  desire  which  many  have  derided  because 
they  were   unable   to  understand   it   owing   to   its   novelty 
and    the  rapidity  of  its  growth.      But   it  arose   principally 
from  the  fact  that  since  the  ruling  class  ceased  to  acquire/ 
wealth  by  brigandage,  seizing  it  forcibly  from  other  nations 
or  classes,  war  lost  its  essential  function,  and   commenced  f 
to  grow  repugnant.  t  |W;l 


II 

We  must  not  imagine,  however,  that  greed  has  lost  its  holdL/ 
on  the  human  heart.  The  legend  of  the  Argonauts,  who  set 
off  for  the  conquest  of  the  golden  fleece,  not  that  of  Prometheus, 
who  ventured,  for  the  good  of  mankind,  to  rob  fire  from  a 
capricious  and  malignant  god,  still  symbolizes  the  doings  of 
modern  men.  The  passion  for  accumulating  treasure  is  still  the 
strongest  of  the  motives  that  sway  the  minorities  who  govern 
European  society  ;  and  though  it  no  longer  resorts  to  such 
violent  means  in  order  to  satisfy  itself,  it  is  still  as  strong  in 
the  heart  of  a  highly  Christian  English  banker  as  in  a  Roman 
proconsul  or  an  ancient  Pagan  chief.  But  these  minorities 
are  no  longer  composed  of  warriors  and  statesmen,  but  of 
financiers,  merchants,  and  industrials.  As  we  have  already 


296  MILITARISM 

seen,  the  supreme  characteristic  of  modern  civilization  is  the 
I/ indefinite  variety  of  productive  investments  for  capital,  due  to 
the  extent  of  our  scientific  knowledge  and  the  universality  of 
laborious  habits.  In  opposition  to  ancient  civilizations,  which 
were,  above  all,  artistic,  unlaborious,  frugal,  and  poor,  modern 
civilization  is  learned,  laborious,  rich,  and  has  many  require- 
ments ;  universal  industry  and  a  continual  increase  in  demand 
are  its  salient  characteristics.  Hence  nowadays  the  ruling 
classes,  instead  of  devoting  their  time  to  war  and  the  State, 
occupy  themselves  in  putting  accumulated  capital  to  good 
use,  directing  work,  perfecting  and  multiplying  instruments 
and  machinery,  not  from  any  noble  sentiments  of  social 
duty,  but  for  the  same  reasons  that  the  aristocracies  of  the 
past  went  to  war  so  frequently — for  the  accumulation  of 
great  and  superfluous  wealth.  This  was  the  chief  cause 
of  the  creation  of  modern  commerce  and  industry. 

On  this  account  there  is  a  certain  spirit  of  conquest  innate 
in  modern  trade  by  reason  of  which  it  resembles  a  species 
of  tempered  war.  Many  economists  affirm  that  industry 
exists  in  order  to  prepare  the  necessities  of  life,  and  that  the 
object  of  commerce  is  to  organize  the  exchange  of  these 
goods  between  men,  families,  classes,  and  nations,  so  that  by 
dividing  their  work  they  can  satisfy  all  their  requirements.  An 
impartial  observer  can  discover  in  modern  business  another 
reason  beyond  either  of  these :  an  elaborate  machinery 
which  in  part  serves  the  purpose  indicated  by  the  economist, 
in  part  serves  to  enable  certain  classes  and  nations  to  rule 
over  other  classes  and  other  nations — in  short,  taking  the 
place  and  function  filled  by  armies  in  the  past, 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  297 

III 

Modern  civilization  is  founded  entirely  on  the  development 
of  work  and  consumption,  for  the  increase  of  supply  always  - 
entails  a  relative  increase  in  demand.  Certain  economists 
make  a  great  error  in  believing  that  the  only  object  of 
industry  is  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  man.  It  serves,  above  all, 
to  create  and  diffuse  these  needs,  so  as  to  be  able  subse- 
quently to  satisfy  them.  In  order  that  it  may  enrich  and 
support  so  many  people,  it  is  a  necessary  condition  that  it 
should  not  remain  the  humble  slave  of  human  requirements. 
An  infinite  number  of  objects  are  every  year  invented,  and 
made  in  thousands  upon  thousands  of  factories,  by  rich 
capitalists  in  the  hopes  of  gain,  by  means  of  powerful  and 
expensive  machines,  and  an  immense  number  of  workers 
whose  desires  for  an  easy  life  every  day  increase,  under  the 
direction  of  brain-workers,  who  also  demand  ample  recom- 
pense. These  goods  are  then  sold  by  merchants  more 
anxious  to  make  profits  out  of  them  than  even  the  very 
manufacturers,  who  travel  to  the  most  distant  countries  in 
search  of  the  strangest  and  most  various  products  of  the 
globe.  Now,  how  could  so  many  desires  and  greeds  be  satis- 
fied, if  the  price  of  goods  sunk  too  low?  In  order  to  prevent 
this  it  is  necessary  that  production  should  never  surpass  a 
certain  measure  of  abundance,  or  that  consumption  should 
so  augment  as  to  constantly  exceed  it.  For  various  reasons, 
which  it  would  take  us  too  long  to  develop,  every  effort  to 
bridle  production  has  failed  of  late:  hence  the  necessity  to 
increase  demand. 

To  succeed  in  this  bold  and  difficult  undertaking,  it  has 
been  necessary  to  modern  commerce  and  industry  to  attempt 


298  MILITARISM 

a  new  and  very  hazardous  conquest  in  the  world — that  of 
inducing  other  people  to  adopt  a  more  expensive  and  com- 
plicated mode  of  life.  It  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge  on  this 
subject  in  order  to  demonstrate  the  fact  that  during  this 
century  innumerable  things  have  been  invented  to  satisfy 
fresh  requirements,  and  introduced  into  distant  countries. 
The  fact  is  well  known,  as  it  is  also  well  known  that  the  ever- 
increasing  cost  of  living,  which  is,  curiously  enough,  combined 
with  the  lowering  of  the  price  of  single  objects,  is  caused  by 
the  prolificacy  of  industry  and  trade.  Now,  these  new  needs 
were  felt  because  in  a  certain  sense  they  had  been  latent  in 
the  minds  of  men  ;  but  it  is  also  certain  that  they  would  have 
continued  in  this  latent  state  had  it  not  been  for  a  few  greedy 
and  ingenious  men,  who  found  the  means  of  developing  these 
inclinations.  Thus  modern  commerce,  by  means  of  numerous 
agents,  has  succeeded  in  spreading  the  temptation  of  these 
new  methods  of  life  throughout  the  whole  of  our  planet. 
Everywhere  it  has  despatched  apostles,  not  to  preach  a  new 
gospel,  but  to  persuade  men  of  all  colours,  tongues,  and 
customs  to  consume  their  ever-increasing  fresh  productions. 
No  difficulty  has  ever  succeeded  in  baffling  these  slow  and 
patient  conquerors — neither  the  inertia  of  men  in  matters 
which  entail  the  alteration  of  old  customs,  the  diffidence, 
ancient  traditions,  and  diversity  of  customs  of  the  races 
unused  to  our  civilization,  the  invincible  prejudices  of  primi- 
tive religions  and  Governments,  nor  the  barbarism  of  wild 
unknown  regions,  abounding  in  traps  and  perils,  wild  beasts, 
and  still  wilder  men.  By  plodding  persistence,  by  all  manner 
of  deceit  to  delude  the  ignorant,  by  corrupting  the  great  ones 
of  the  earth,  and,  in  some  desperate  cases,  by  forcing  their  way 
by  arms,  filling  the  desert  roads,  abysses,  and  little  cemeteries 
of  far-away  lands  with  corpses,  these  obstinate  invaders 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  299 

from  the  great  industrial  centres  have  succeeded  in  vanquish- 
ing the  world,  as  though  they  had  all  united  together  for  one 
supreme  object,  and  worked  unanimously  as  one  body  from 
the  centre  of  Africa  to  India,  from  Siberia  to  California,  from 
Sicily  to  Australia. 


IV 

In  this  manner,  what  we  may  call  the  mechanical-industrial 
civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  diffused  itself 
throughout  Europe,  from  Italy  to  Russia,  and  also  throughout 
America.  Partially,  also,  it  has  penetrated  other  continents. 
But  it  would  be  too  simple  to  imagine  that  this  spread  of 
civilization  was  merely  like  an  exchange  of  produce  between 
various  nations  for  their  mutual  benefit.  Its  result  has  been 
the  division  of  the  civilized  nations  of  Europe  into  two  classes — 
the  creditor  nations,  who  are  those  which  contributed  towards 
this  new  order  of  civilization  ;  and  the  debtors,  which  are 
those  who  have  merely  profited  by  it.  Let  us  recall  to  mind 
the  simple  primitive  scene  narrated  in  the  "  Odyssey." 

The  Phoenician  merchants  landed  on  the  Greek  shores, 
took  from  their  ships  the  merchandise  of  their  country,  and 
exhibited  it ;  then  from  the  neighbouring  villages  came 
troops  of  women  and  girls  to  gaze  at  them,  and  through 
these  samples  of  a  more  refined  industry,  the  desire  for  more 
luxurious  things  took  birth  in  the  minds  of  the  barbarians. 
Our  latter-day  great  manufacturers  and  merchants  have 
repeated  the  undertaking  of  the  Phoenician  merchant  a 
thousand  times  during  the  course  of  this  century.  They 
have  penetrated  everywhere,  amidst  civilized,  barbarous,  and 
savage  nations  ;  they  have  exhibited  on  the  seashore,  in  the 
village  squares  and  city  streets,  samples  of  an  infinite 


300  MILITARISM 

number  of  things  manufactured  in  their  country  by  millions  of 
human  hands,  and  by  machines  working  rapidly  as  lightning. 
A  few  savage  races  have  expelled  and  slaughtered  them  ; 
but  generally,  even  in  the  remotest  mountain  villages,  the 
merchant  has  met  with  a  ready  welcome  from  the  simple 
folk.  Men  and  women  have  surrounded  him,  curious  to 
inspect  the  new  goods  introduced  by  the  stranger ;  and  one 
having  given  the  example,  another  and  another  followed  suit, 
until  all  bought  a  specimen,  thinking  that  they  thus  satisfied 
an  innocent  desire.  But  the  merchant's  treasure-bag  was 
inexhaustible.  Every  day  he  produced  thence  some  new 
object,  and  the  temptation  to  indulge  in  them  grew  ever 
stronger ;  so  that  the  better  part  having  spent  all  their  ready 
cash,  dug  up  the  little  hoards  hidden  away  by  the  old  people  ; 
all  their  savings  gone,  they  gradually  got  into  debt  with  the 
village  usurer  and  the  merchant  himself.  And  the  merchant, 
in  the  mean  time,  grew  richer  and  richer. 

This  little  fable  sums  up  very  characteristically  one  of  the 
least  known  episodes  of  modern  history.  It  accounts,  in  a 
certain  manner,  for  the  mysterious  growth  of  fortunes  which 
our  century  has  witnessed.  Leaving  the  smaller  nations  out 
of  account,  among  which  there  are  many  creditor  nations, 
such  as  Belgium  and  Switzerland,  which,  although  in  a 
flourishing  condition,  pay  little  attention  to  politics,  among 
the  great  nations  of  Europe,  France,  Germany,  and  England 
count  as  creditors,  Italy,  Spain,  Russia,  and  Austria  as 
debtors. 

V 

Now,  the  superior  or  inferior  condition  of  modern  nations 
all  depends  on  this  matter  of  debtor  and  creditor.  The  creditor 
nations  are  to-day  in  the  same  condition  that  countries 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  301 

ruling  by  force  of  arms  found  themselves  in  ancient  civilization ; 
the  debtors  represent  the  conquered  tributary  populations. 

The  creditor  nations  are  the  centre  of  world-wide  capital- 
ism, i.e.  capital  is  so  abundant  as  to  be  superabundant  for 
internal  requirements,  and  consequently  can  be  used  for 
productive  investments  in  other  lands,  for  Government  loans, 
industrial,  banking,  and  commercial  speculations.  By  means 
of  this  capital  these  nations  have  become  a  world  empire. 
We  cannot  gauge  the  real  extent  of  the  English  and  French 
empires  by  those  territories  marked  yellow  and  red  on 
geographical  charts,  but  by  the  gigantic  investments  English 
bankers  have  made  all  the  world  over,  in  United  States 
industries,  as  in  those  of  Moscow,  in  the  diamond  mines 
of  the  Cape,  as  in  the  hydraulic  works  in  the  Italian  Alps  ; 
in  the  loans  made  by  France,  the  great  usurer  of  this  century, 
to  all  the  Governments  of  the  globe,  in  the  international 
commerce  of  money  of  which  she  is  the  centre.  The  power 
and  empire  of  Germany  are  not  extended  by  the  coreografic 
journeys  made  by  the  emperor  to  Palestine,  got  up  in  the 
costume  of  a  Crusader,  but  by  those  patient  business  men 
who,  in  Russia  and  Italy,  in  the  two  Americas,  and  the 
extreme  Orient,  manage  to  find  new  productive  invest- 
ments for  capital.  This  is  an  empire  without  geographical 
dimensions,  invisible  and  intangible,  above  all  political 
divisions  of  nations,  but  one  which  assures  well-being  to 
the  creditor  countries. 

Wherein  did  the  greatest  privilege  of  the  ruling  nations 
of  antiquity  consist?  It  was  the  tribute  they  enforced  by 
arms  from  the  conquered  nations.  To-day  the  ruling  nations 
still  extort  tribute  which  takes  this  form,  that  they  are  able 
to  import  a  larger  quantity  of  goods  than  they  export.  Any 
one  who  examines  the  English,  French,  and  German  statistics 


302  MILITARISM 

of  exportation  and  importation,  immediately  perceives  that 
these  nations  import  much  more  than  they  export.  In  some 
years,  for  instance,  England  has  imported  as  much  as  a 
milliard  of  francs  more  than  she  exported,  and  France 
800  millions.  This  signifies  that  these  nations  obtain  an 
enormous  amount  of  goods  from  other  countries  without 
giving  anything  in  exchange ;  that  from  those  countries 
which  are  in  their  debt  they  take  every  year  a  quantity 
of  useful  and  beautiful  things  as  payment  of  interest  without 
contributing  anything  in  exchange  ;  they  carry  away  what 
they  choose,  whilst  the  wretched  debtor  nations  pay  back  as 
interest  on  the  sums  they  borrowed  all  their  most  valuable 
possessions.  English  and  German  millionaires  drink  the 
best  Italian  and  Spanish  wines ;  they  purchase  the  historical 
palaces  of  Venice,  the  villas  and  lakes  of  the  Alban  hills  ; 
they  keep  a  keen  eye  on  the  masterpieces  of  ancient  Italian 
art,  which,  but  for  governmental  prohibition,  they  would 
carry  away  from  Italy  in  larger  numbers  and  more  effectively 
than  did  Napoleon.  British  workmen  batten  on  the  best 
oranges  of  Spain  and  Sicily.  The  first  effect  of  the  abolition 
of  feudalism  in  Russia  was  that  the  peasants  had  to  leave  off 
eating  wheaten  bread  and  to  content  themselves  with  bread 
made  of  rye,  because  all  their  corn  was  exported  to  nourish 
German  and  English  workmen.  As  in  the  ancient  world  all 
countries  sent  their  goods  to  Rome,  the  universal  ruler,  in 
homage  to  the  final  victress  of  so  long  a  contest  of  intermin- 
able wars,  so  to-day  half  the  world  sends  the  best  produce 
of  its  agriculture,  its  art  and  industry,  to  London. 

This  vast  lucrativeness  of  capital  employed  productively 
in  foreign  countries,  is  a  cause  of  well-being  to  the  creditor 
nations,  who  are  well  off  from  the  workmen  to  the  upper  class, 
the  middle  class,  the  backbone  of  modern  civilization,  being 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  303 

the  most  prosperous  of  all.  Capital  abounds  ;  the  desire  to 
invest  it  profitably  is  universal ;  hence  work  is  also  plentiful, 
the  standard  of  life  tends  to  improve  in  all  classes,  individual 
energies  have  ample  scope,  and  the  whole  of  society  becomes 
a  vast  field  of  scientific,  industrial,  social,  political,  artistic, 
and  literary  experiments.  Those  who  are  desirous  of  en- 
riching themselves  can  do  so  without  being  noxious  to 
society  whilst  promoting  its  interests,  while  intellectual  men 
have  much  fuller  scope  for  doing  their  best.  Prosperity  being 
so  widespread,  the  workers  are  satisfied,  and  the  Government 
has  an  easy  task. 

In  the  debtor  nations,  on  the  contrary,  the  conditions  of  ~ 
the  middle  class  and  workers  are  hard  ;  capital  being  scarce 
there  is  little  work,  salaries  and  profits  are  small ;  little  is 
consumed,  the  vast  exportation  renders  life  dearer  to  the 
middle  and  working  classes — indeed,  to  the  whole  of  society 
life  grows  more  and  more  difficult.  All  aspire  to  a  broader, 
more  dignified,  and  intellectual  life,  but  they  are  daily  reduced 
to  a  meaner  and  more  squalid  existence.  The  very  rich  are 
comparatively  poor  and  ungenerous.  There  is  little  scope 
for  energy,  originality  has  small  chance  of  displaying  itself ;  - 
wherefore  those  countries  which  used  to  be  the  seat  of  an 
ancient  and  vast  civilization,  and  which  to-day  abound  in 
intelligent  and  clever  men,  find  themselves  in  a  most  un- 
fortunate condition  to  compete  in  the  field  of  intellect  with  the 
newer  creditor  nations,  to  whom  belongs  in  a  great  measure 
the  honour  of  directing  the  intellectual  movement  of  our 
times.  Nations  which  are  economically  in  a  tributary  position 
are  imitative  intellectually. 

What  country  has  contributed  so  much  to  the  history  of 
civilization  as  Italy  ?  And  yet  for  the  last  forty  years  she 
appears  to  have  lost  all  originality.  With  the  exception  of 


304  MILITARISM 

a  few  men  who  have  managed  to  preserve  their  individuality 
at  all  costs,  and  who  have  generally  been  persecuted  by  the 
envy  of  their  country,  nearly  the  whole  intellectual  movement 
of  Italy  is  borrowed  from  abroad  ;  her  literature  is  in  a  great 
measure  imitated  from  the  French,  her  experimental  science 
from  Germany,  her  social  and  political  ideas  from  France  and 
England.  The  latter  country  has  also  exercised  considerable 
influence  on  those  general  theories  which  have  contributed 
towards  the  development  of  Italian  thought :  Spencerism  and 
Darwinism.  Such  a  pass  has  been  reached  that  in  the 
country  of  Raphael  and  Michael  Angelo  artists  take  the 
paintings  of  English  Pre-Raphaelists  as  their  model.  Debtor 
countries,  in  short,  are  in  such  bad  internal  conditions  that  they 
find  it  relatively  difficult  to  develop  their  intellectual  energies. 
But  the  greatest  evil  is  that  in  the  debtor  countries  also 
greedy  plutocracies  are  formed  anxious  to  draw  profit  out  of 
the  direction  of  some  social  work.  However,  in  these  countries 
the  scarceness  of  capital  renders  the  few  people  who  possess 
it  very  cautious  ;  they  are  unwilling  to  risk  more  than  a  small 
sum  at  a  time,  and  that  only  with  the  certainty  of  good 
profits.  Thus  industry  finds  it  difficult  to  compete  with  richer 
nations,  and  it  seeks  to  augment  its  profits  by  protectionism. 
Whilst  the  world-wide  industries  of  creditor  nations  prosper, 
little  provincial  traders  struggle  on  in  the  conquered  nations, 
protected  and  assisted  in  all  manner  of  ways  by  the  Govern- 
ment. A  small  minority  manages  to  live  and  prosper,  and 
does  its  best  to  imitate  the  life  led  in  powerful  countries, 
thanks  to  the  eternal  historical  law  by  which  the  conquered 
always  seek  to  imitate  the  conquerors. 

Thus  a  ruling  class  is  growing  up  in  these  countries  which 

.  attempts  to  augment  the  social  value  of  their  work  by  the  help 

V  of  Csesarism  in  its  many  various  forms,  including  protectionism. 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  305 

In  other  words,  while  all  creditor  nations  —  with  the 
exception  of  France,  which  is  an  eccentric  exception  to 
everything — display  a  decided  tendency  towards  free  trade, 
in  debtor  countries  the  great  industrials  and  landowners 
seek  to  augment  their  profits,  by  artificially  raising  the  prices 
of  goods  by  customs-house  tariffs,  thus  paying  a  higher  price 
than  could  rightly  be  demanded  by  the  producers,  whilst 
obtaining  State  favours  in  the  shape  of  subsidies  and  other 
artifices  common  to  the  not  very  scruplous  finance  of  European 
nations.  Thus  we  find  the  Spanish  industrials  up  to  last 
year  drawing  large  profits  from  being  able  to  export  to 
the  colonies  under  a  lower  tariff  than  other  countries.  The 
idleness  of  the  Sicilian  landowners  is  insured  by  the  Govern- 
ment by  means  of  taxes  which  raised  the  price  of  bread. 
Then  again  we  see  that  the  great  Russian  merchants  by 
introducing  a  vast  system  of  customs  tariffs,  became  the 
masters  of  Russian  consumers.  In  the  same  way  the  Italian 
cotton  and  wool  manufacturers,  by  the  customs  revolution  of 
ten  years  ago,  procured  themselves  a  few  years  of  great 
prosperity. 

By  such  means  in  those  weaker  countries  which  were 
not  sufficiently  favoured  by  fortune  to  become  centres  of 
capitalism,  the  greedy  and  ambitious  succeeded  in  ac- 
cumulating large  fortunes  by  impoverishing  their  fellow- 
countrymen,  by  exploiting  their  brothers  who  speak  the 
same  tongue,  and  this  not  by  violent,  but  by  insidious  means, 
in  the  name  of  industrial  patriotism — a  catchword  capable  of 
seducing  many  minds,  and  which  represents  the  economic 
sophisms  of  protectionism  as  salutary  truths.  Protectionism 
aggravates  the  already  hard  condition  of  tributary  nations, 
and  becomes  at  the  same  time  a  partial  means  of  enriching 
the  creditors,  who  always  invest  large  capital  in  the  protected 

u 


306  MILITARISM 

industries.  Thus  Russian  protectionism  has  enriched  English 
capitalists,  Italian  protectionism  has  enriched  Germans  ;  the 
first  founded  many  industries  in  Moscow,  St.  Petersburg,  and 
Lodz,  the  latter  have  done  the  same  in  Lombardy. 


VI 

But  these  world-wide  empires  of  capitalism  are  based  not 
on  territorial  extension,  but  on  the  abundance  of  capital  and 
x/  the  capacity  of  men  to  use  it  productively.  Therefore,  as  has 
already  been  demonstrated,  societies  founded  on  free  principles 
run  a  better  chance  of  success  than  those  where  the  middle 
class  depend  on  governmental  protection.  The  only  excep- 
tion to  this  rule  is  France.  All  the  remainder,  Austria  and 
Spain,  Russia  and  Italy,  are  debtor  subject  nations.  This 
explains  at  the  same  time  the  relative  decadence  of  Catholic 
countries  as  compared  to  Protestant  ones  ;  as  Catholicism  is 
still  the  most  potent  protective  system. 

Moreover,  as  this  empire  does  not  depend  on  territoral 
extension,  military  power  is  not  essential  to  its  stability. 
Little  countries,  like  Belgium  and  Switzerland,  may  be 
creditors  and  rulers ;  huge  empires,  like  Russia,  debtors  and 
tributaries.  Militarism  may  in  some  cases  be  an  auxiliary  of 
the  capitalist  empire,  but  only  on  one  condition,  i.e.  that  it 
does  not  entail  such  an  immense  expenditure  on  arms  and 
wars  as  to  impede  or  arrest  the  accumulation  of  capital. 
Italy  is  a  terrible  example  of  how  a  nation  can  be  reduced 
by  debt  to  a  tributary  and  inferior  condition,  from  having 
squandered  too  much  of  its  wealth  on  arms.  Moreover,  a 
creditor  Government  finds  itself  to-day  carteris  puribus,  and 
capable  of  becoming  stronger  than  other  States,  also  from  a 
military  point  of  view,  because  armament  expenses  are 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  307 

continuous  and  recurrent.  Who  is  not  aware  that,  nowadays, 
arms  and  all  the  apparatus  of  war  have  to  be  renewed  nearly 
every  ten  years,  thanks  to  the  mad  fury  for  military  inven- 
tions which  afflicts  Europe  ?  This  continuous  change  renders 
militarism  too  expensive  a  matter  for  debtor  nations,  who 
find  themselves  constantly  embarrassed  at  each  fresh  renova- 
tion of  the  army  and  navy  to  find  the  necessary  funds. 


VII 

A  world-wide  commercialism  in  "a  creditor  country  or  a 
large  system  of  commercial  and  industrial  Coesarism  pro- 
ducing large  profits  for  a  fortunate  plutocracy  in  a  debtor 
country,  are  then  the  greatest,  pleasantest,  and  least  immoral 
means  for  satisfying  the  greed  of  the  governing  minority, 
which  in  the  past  sought  to  satisfy  itself  by  means  of  war. 
This  is  so  true  that  in  those  countries  which  possess  a 
world-wide  commerce,  or  where  a  vast  national  financial 
Caesarism  exists,  the  State  grows  ever  less  bellicose,  by  mere 
force  of  circumstances,  even  if  it  be  unaware  of  the  fact, 
and  go  on  increasing  its  military  armaments. 

I  will  give  two  examples — England  and  Russia.  England 
is  the  seat  of  the  vastest  and  most  powerful  world-wide 
capitalism  existing,  and  may,  in  some  respects,  be  considered 
the  first  military  power  in  the  world  ;  for  it  possesses  the 
largest  fleet,  and  the  European  army  most  exercised  by  con- 
tinual wars.  But,  notwithstanding,  her  policy  grows  ever 
more  prudent  and  conciliating.  Her  diplomatists  never  make 
demands  which  are  likely  to  require  enforcing  by  wars ;  in 
the  East  and  in  the  Far  East  they  have  always  preferred  to 
manage  matters  in  a  friendly  spirit,  and  to  give  in  rather  than 
to  display  her  naval  superiority  in  one  or  more  wars. 


308  MILITARISM 

English  diplomatists  always  prefer  slow  solutions  and  transi- 
tions ;  if  in  the  Fashoda  question  they  acted  with  unaccus- 
tomed energy,  it  cannot  be  said  that  in  other  questions  which 
have  arisen  with  France,  Germany,  and  Russia,  they  have 
not  displayed  great  consideration.  The  Fashoda  question 
had  become  one  affecting  the  national  pride  more  than 
interest,  and  served  to  interrupt  by  energetic  action  a  system 
of  conciliation,  which  seemed  in  its  turn  likely  to  become 
perilous.  Moreover,  an  English  ministry  has  recently 
declared  that  British  imperialism  strives  above  all  things  to 
avoid  conflict  and  expense.  By  so  doing  the  United  Kingdom 
provides  both  for  its  own  well-being  and  that  of  European 
civilization,  for  wars  occasioned  by  thirst  of  power  would 
arrest  its  magnificent  development.  History  will  be  grateful 
to  England  for  not  having  abused  her  naval  power,  for  having 
recognized  the  right  of  other  nations  to  their  place  under  the 
sun,  for  realizing  that  the  prosperity  of  others  does  not  entail 
her  loss,  and  that  war,  whatever  its  result,  would  damage  her 
power.  The  English  Empire  stretches  beyond  its  territorial 
confines  ;  it  extends  wherever  English  capital  is  invested,  and 
becomes  one  of  the  motives  of  civilization.  Thus  a  war  resulting 
in  the  annexation  of  new  and  vast  territories,  but  also  imply- 
ing a  huge  destruction  of  capital,  would  diminish  the  grandeur 
and  power  of  the  Empire,  for  every  million  of  capital  con- 
sumed represents  a  square  million  of  ideal  empire  lost.  Thus 
England  is,  and  daily  becomes,  more  pacific,  because  no  class 
of  society  is  interested  in  war,  no  one  wishes  to  avail  himself 
of  it  to  satisfy  his  creed,  which  can  be  better  appeased  by 
other  means.  War  with  civilized  countries  is  repugnant  to 
her,  she  accumulates  huge  armaments  merely  for  self-defence, 
which  remain  idle,  and  were  only  used  in  petty  colonial  wars, 
whose  one  object  is  to  open  and  maintain  roads  across  savage 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  309 

continents  for  the  use  of  her  merchants,  at  a  comparatively 
trifling  cost. 

Russia  is  another  example.  No  European  Government 
presents  so  military  an  aspect.  Russian  society  appears  to 
an  outsider  to  be  ruled  by  a  military  despotism.  Yet  the 
very  heads  of  this  system,  the  Czars  themselves,  rank  to-day 
amongst  the  upholders  of  peace  ;  a  Russian  policy  during  the 
last  twenty  years  has  become  ever  more  pacific  in  its  rela- 
tions with  other  European  nations.  If  the  external  form  of 
Russian  society,  the  military  absolutism,  remains  unchanged, 
the  internal  is  rapidly  modifying.  The  old  Russian  aristocracy, 
composed  of  land  and  serf  owners,  which  diminuted  by  force 
of  arms  till  the  abolition  of  serfdom,  is  decaying,  ruined  by 
usury  and  idleness,  and  the  social  reforms  which  for  the  last 
thirty  years,  ever  since  the  second  half  of  the  reign  of 
Alexander  II.,  have  hastened  the  introduction  into  Russia 
of  the  mechanical  industrial  civilization  of  the  West ;  and 
the  place  which  it  is  leaving  vacant,  as  it  disappears  into 
the  shades  of  the  past,  is  filled  by  a  very  powerful  financial 
oligarchy  composed  of  merchant  princes  and  manufacturers, 
to  whom  the  Government  abandons,  with  the  most  shameless 
protectivism  and  Caesarism,  the  whole  of  the  immense  empire. 
For  the  past  twenty  years  Russia  has  been  seized  with  the  in- 
dustrial fever,  with  the  unlimited  ambition  to  accumulate  huge 
fortunes  by  means  of  industries,  protected  by  tariffs,  subventions, 
and  encouraging  rewards  prodigated  with  princely  generosity. 

Thus  the  military  pride  of  ancient  Russia  is  disappearing, 
that  pride  which  dreamed  of  new  conquests,  and  hoped  to 
expand  the  Sclavonic  empire,  contemplating  the  conquest  of 
Constantinople  and  India,  and  the  establishment  of  apolitical 
and  military  dictatorship  over  Europe ;  and  it  is  replaced  by 
the  desire  to  develop  all  over  Russia  an  immense  system  of 


310  MILITARISM 

traffic  and  industry.  Hence  the  gigantic  projects  for  public 
works,  first  among  which  ranks  the  trans-Siberian  railway, 
which  will  open  up  to  adventurous  Russian  capitalists  an 
empire  vaster  and  richer  than  that  which  Alexander  the 
Great  conquered  for  himself  with  his  sword — Macedonian 
legend  ;  hence  the  laws  to  protect  industry  and  commerce 
which  engross  more  and  more  the  cares  of  the  State  to  the 
detriment  of  war.  But  as  this  new  spirit  grows  the  ancient 
spirit  declines  ;  so  that  the  Russia  of  to-day,  instead 
of  being  governed  by  generals,  is  at  the  mercy  of  a  band  of 
ambitious  financiers,  who  dream  of  an  age  of  gold  for  Russia. 
The  wealth  they  dream  of  would  fall  to  the  share  of  a  few 
capitalists,  however,  not  to  the  people  ;  for  the  terrific  expense 
entailed  by  this  gigantic  Csesarism  is,  and  will  be,  paid  above 
all  by  the  peasants,  the  citizens,  and  the  middle  classes,  who 
contribute  the  greater  part  of  the  money  necessary  for  the 
construction  of  railways,  for  paying  the  liberal  rewards 
assigned  to  the  encouragment  of  absurd  and  mistaken 
industries,  and  for  supplying  the  deficit  entailed  by  a  bank- 
ing system  which  enriches  a  few  unscrupulous  speculators 
whilst  despoiling  the  masses. 

The  first  concrete  proposal  for  disarmament  has  emanated 
from  Russia,  and  this  fact,  though  it  has  taken  the  world  by 
surprise,  appears,  on  deeper  study,  less  astonishing  than  one 
would  think  for.  Russia  is  a  debtor  State,  poor  in  capital, 
which  has  accomplished  the  progresses  of  the  past  thirty 
years  by  borrowing  money  from  France,  Germany,  and 
England.  The  growth  of  wealth  is  slow  there,  accumulated 
capital  scarce,  whilst  the  need  thereof  is  great,  for  civilizing 
huge  countries,  opening  up  new  roads,  building  railways,  and 
meeting  the  annual  deficit  incurred  by  a  wasteful  adminis- 
tration. Hence  Russia  is  one  of  the  countries  which  finds 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  311 

most  difficulty  in  meeting  the  ever-growing  burden  of 
military  expenditure,  a  difficulty  proportionate  to  the  im- 
mensity of  the  empire,  and  to  the  gigantic  capital  necessary 
for  civilizing  it ;  and  thus  it  is  interested  in  maintaining  peace 
even  more  than  is  its  rival  creditor. 


VIII 

All  that  we  have  said  about  creditor  and  debtor  countries 
applies  to  Europe,  but  not  to  America.  Another  proof  of 
the  privileges  enjoyed  by  the  new  continents  is  that  there 
a  society  may  be  economically  a  debtor  and  yet  enjoy  those 
material  and  moral  conditions  which  in  Europe  belong  to 
creditor  countries.  Such  is  the  case  with  the  United  States, 
which  is  a  debtor  country,  inasmuch  as  English  capital  is 
largely  employed  there,  and  whose  exports  exceed  its 
imports.  But,  owing  to  the  reasons  which  we  studied  in 
our  first  chapter,  fruitful  investments  for  capital  are  very 
numerous  ;  and  hence  the  governing  classes  are  intensely 
pacific.  The  recent  Cuban  war  must  not  lead  us  to  think 
that  America  is  entering  on  a  new  epoch  of  military  con- 
quest, unless,  indeed,  its  governors  go  mad.  If  such  were 
the  case,  the  prosperity  and  strength  of  American  society 
would  rapidly  decline  ;  because  all  the  capital  which  would 
be  expended  in  conquering  territory  in  Asia  and  Africa 
would  be  withdrawn  from  useful  employment  in  the  mother- 
country,  from  which  we  must  expect  the  ever-growing  great- 
ness of  American  civilization.  This  decay  would  be  all  the 
more  rapid,  as  recent  events  have  proved  that  if  Americans 
know  how  to  conduct  wars  successfully,  they  are  unable  to 
manage  it  cheaply. 


MILITARISM 


IX 

But,  it  may  be  objected,  although  already  these  social 
conditions  have  flourished  nearly  all  over  Europe,  our  century 
can  chronical  an  infinite  number  of  wars  from  its  commence- 
ment until  1870.  Firstly,  the  Napoleonic  wars  ;  then,  after  a 
long  interval  of  peace,  the  various  wars  from  1848-49:  the 
Crimean  war  ;  the  war  between  Austria,  France,  and  Ger- 
many of  1866  ;  the  war  between  Germany  and  France  of  1870. 
A  long  list  indeed,  even  if  we  omit  the  minor  wars,  for  a 
century  which  is  considered  destined  to  witness  the  disappear- 
ance of  war  from  the  history  of  Europe !  But  the  greater 

part  of  these  wars  had  a  political,  not  economic  motive,  and 
i/ 

were  necessary  in  order  to  modify  a  condition  of  things  which 

rendered  life  impossible  to  many  European  nations.  This 
work  having  been  completed  by  the  war  of  1870,  the  era  of 
peace  commenced  afresh.  It  has  endured  now  for  twenty- 
nine  years,  and  to  all  appearances  it  means  to  endure  a  long 
time  yet. 

There  were  two  principal  causes  for  war  during  our  cen- 
tury:  the  policy  of  Austria  prior  to  1866,  and  the  turbulent 
^Napoleonic  spirit.  That  curious  spirit  of  intrigue,  interference, 
and  conservative  fanaticism  which  characterized  the  Austrian 
policy  from  1815  to  1866,  rendered  that  country  a  potent 
cause  for  disturbance  to  Europe — a  base  and  intriguing 
diplomacy  which  was  energetic  and  sterile  at  the  same 
time  ;  a  brave  but  stupid  military  class  ;  an  honest,  diligent, 
but  retrogressive  and  bigoted  executive ;  a  small  oligarchy 
which  the  French  Revolution  had  maddened  with  terror. 
Such  were  the  elements  which  together  went  to  build  up 
this  curious  military  empire,  which  since  1815  attempted  to 


PAX   CHRISTIANA  313 

solve  by  force  the  problem,  not  of  perpetual  motion,  but  of 
the  eternal  immobility  of  European  society.  The  prejudices 
and  stupid  obstinacy  of  this  Government  retarded  the  progress 
and  development  of  three  countries :  Italy,  where  Austria 
tried  to  compel  even  those  provinces  which  were  not  under 
its  domain  to  submit  to  the  barbarous  rule  which  tormented 
her ;  Prussia  and  the  German  States,  in  whose  confederation 
Austria  represented  the  spirit  of  negation  and  disorder ;  and 
Hungary,  which  was  subjected  to  the  tyrannical  rule  of  the 
Austrian  army  and  executive. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  sooner  had  Napoleonism  reopened 
the  tomb  of  St.  Helena  and  Napoleon  III.  mounted  the 
throne  of  France,  than  the  turbulent  elements  of  French 
politics,  which  had  appeared  dormant  since  1815,  began  to 
reassert  themselves.  The  French  Government  immediately 
armed  and  took  to  the  road  in  search  of  adventure,  a  little 
like  a  mediaeval  knight,  and  not  altogether  unlike  a  brigand. 
Now  we  find  it  defending  the  weak,  here  again  associating 
itself  with  the  masterful.  Whether  side  by  side  with  Turkey 
or  fighting  against  Austria  ;  whether  in  defence  of  the  Pope 
or  in  opposition  to  the  growing  power  of  Prussia  ;  whether 
against  China  or  in  aid  of  the  poor  Italian  provinces  suffer- 
ing under  the  tyranny  of  barbarous  Governments  ;  wherever, 
in  short,  an  occasion  presented  itself  for  fighting  and  glory, 
Napoleonic  France  stained  the  earth  with  blood.  What  was 
its  object  ?  To  what  motive  can  we  attribute  her  actions  ? 
Little  matters  it  whether,  in  a  few  of  these  various  adventures, 
the  Napoleonic  Government  served  a  useful  social  or  political 
purpose  ; — for  instance,  as  in  the  Italian  war.  It  was  not  with 
this  object  that  it  so  often  resorted  to  arms,  but  in  order  to 
obtain  the  approbation  of  France  by  satisfying  a  vain  passion 
for  military  glory.  It  could  thus  also  constitute  a  vigorous 


3  H  MILITARISM 

and  well-disciplined  class  of  professional  soldiers,  who  would 
be  a  solid  weapon  to  the  Government  to  keep  its  ^subjects  in 
order.  Was  it  necessary  periodically  to  disturb  the  peace 
of  Europe  in  order  to  attain  this  end  ?  Little  mattered  it 
so  long  as  the  traditions  of  Napoleonic  glory  were  well  re- 
established with  the  new  empire, 

Even  bad  things  contain  an  element  of  good.  Napoleonism 
and  the  Austrian  empire,  both  intrinsic  evils,  served  the  use- 
ful purpose  in  respect  to  one  another  of  each  weakening  the 
other  by  wars,  until  Prussia  and  the  German  States  gave 
them  both  the  coup  de grace.  Since  1866,  Austria  has  wisely 
resigned  herself  to  passivity.  Of  the  unmeasured  ambition  that 
used  to  characterize  her,  she  only  preserves  a  short  programme 
of  negations,  whose  principal  object  is  to  prevent  Russia 
becoming  too  powerful  in  the  Balkan  peninsula  and  the 
Orient,  and  from  preventing  Hungary,  which  is  independent 
in  reality,  from  becoming  so  also  in  name.  The  French 
Republic,  on  its  part,  has  not  entirely  broken  with  the  military 
traditions  of  the  nation.  This  would  have  been  impossible, 
but  its  policy  of  European  warlike  adventures  has,  in  the 
course  of  time,  been  modified  and  softened  into  one  of  colonial 
expeditions  to  Asia  and  Africa.  We  might  almost  say  that 
it  is  gradually  lulling  it  to  sleep  in  the  public  conscience. 
France,  the  warrior  all  in  arms,  like  the  legendary  Valkirie, 
is  gradually  sinking  into  an  enchanted  sleep  on  the  mountain 
of  things  that  have  been,  beside  the  stake  of  Time,  which 
reduces  everything  to  a  heap  of  ashes ;  and  here  she  must 
sleep  until  some  hero  shall  arrive  to  rouse  her  from  her 
slumbers.  And  she  will  sleep  for  a  long  time  yet,  you  may 
be  sure.  The  race  of  such  heroes  is  extinguished  in  Europe  ; 
if  it  is  rash  to  say  for  ever,  for  a  very  long  time  to  come  at 
least.  With  Austria  converted  to  a  more  reasonable  policy, 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  315 

and  Napoleonism  dead,  Europe  was  able  to  establish  an 
equilibrium  which,  if  not  perfect,  is  at  least  tolerable— one 
which  has  resisted  many  perils  and  disturbance  during  the 
past  twenty-seven  years,  and  which  will  grow  better  in  the 
course  of  time.  Germany  merits  no  small  credit  in  having 
contributed  towards  this  new  phase  of  European  politics,  a 
merit  which  she  has  done  her  best  to  efface  by  the  annexa- 
tions of  1871 — a  useless  annexation  which  concluded  madly 
a  useful  work.  The  war  of  1870  was  the  rudest  blow  given 
during  the  century  to  European  militarism,  because  it 
destroyed  for  ever  the  Napoleonic  spirit ;  but  that  fatal  land- 
grabbing  which  concluded  it  must  have  appeared  as  a  triumph 
of  militarism,  giving  back  to  this  spirit  a  little  of  that  sign  of 
which  Germany  was  rapidly  stripping  it  by  means  of  those 
fierce  blows  known  as  Gravelotte  and  Sedan.  Many  imagine 
that  the  war  of  1870  gave  a  fresh  lease  of  life  to  militarism 
in  Europe.  In  reality  it  killed  it  by  destroying  Napoleonism. 
But  the  annexations  which  were  its  contradictory  conclusion, 
the  increase  of  armament  which  were  a  transitory  consequence, 
led  many  minds  totally  astray  with  regard  to  this  historical 
event.  History,  however,  will  judge  differently,  because, 
though  Europe  may  never  have  been  so  heavily  armed  as  it 
has  been  since  1870,  desire  and  opportunity  to  make  use  of 
these  weapons  have  never  been  so  reduced.  Now,  arms  are 
the  body  of  militarism,  while  the  desire  to  resort  to  them  is 
its  soul.  Lastly,  the  Spanish-American  War  arose,  also,  from 
a  purely  political  cause.  The  United  States  demanded  of 
Spain  to  alter  its  policy  in  the  government  of  Cuba.  A 
political  incompatibility  existed  between  the  United  States 
and  Spain  analogous  to  that  which  existed  between  Germany 
and  Austria,  and  Austria  and  Italy,  and  therefore  war  became 
inevitable  in  the  end.  But  this  political  incompatibility  is 


316  MILITARISM 

everywhere  diminishing  in  the  civilized  world,  while  colonial 
and  commercial  jealousies  are  everywhere  on  the  increase- 
troubles  which,  as  we  have  demonstrated,  can  in  no  way  be 
solved  by  war. 


Thus  the  duty  of  every  well-meaning  man  to-day  is  to 
diffuse  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  war  no  longer  serves  the 
purpose  it  once  served  in  the  struggle  for  civilization.  The 
aspect  of  society  in  whose  midst  we  live  is  continually 
changing ;  but  we  persist  in  seeing  it  as  it  was,  not  as  it  is, 
owing  to  that  inertia  and  misoneism  which  are  fundamental 
laws  of  the  human  mind.  Were  I  to  ask  a  man  :  "  In  what 
century  do  you  suppose  that  you  are  living?"  he  would  pro- 
bably think  that  I  wished  to  deride  him.  And  yet,  although 
we  all  live  bodily  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century,  a  great 
number  of  us  are  still  living  mentally  in  past  ages  :  we  see 
the  world  as  it  used  to  be,  not  as  it  actually  is.  As,  every 
night,  millions  of  eyes  lift  themselves  to  heaven  to  con- 
template the  radiancy  of  those  stars  which,  though  they  have 
been  dead  for  years,  still  shine  so  brilliantly,  thus  for  years 
and  centuries  men  see  around  themselves  things  which  once 
were,  but  which  are  no  more.  Facts  follow  one  another  at  a 
rapid  pace,  more  especially  in  our  times,  while  human  thought 
limps  after  them  with  halting  steps.  In  this  problem  of  war, 
as  in  every  other  problem,  that  incredulity  which  is  due  to 
the  debasement  of  ideas  to  facts  must  also  be  overcome,  the 
conscience  of  man  must  be  awakened  to  the  greatness  of  the 
historical  moment  in  which  we  live,  to  the  rapid  progress  going 
on  around  us,  to  the  process  of  transformation  of  which  we 
are  in  part  the  subject,  and  in  part — whether  consciously  or 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  Z17 

not — the  tool.     Now,  none  of  the  diplomatic  conflicts  which 
actually  divide  the  nations  of  Europe  are  of  a  kind  which  ' 
could  not  be  settled  without  resort  to  arms.     Indeed,  modern 
civilization  is  so  organized  that  the  most  powerful  countries 
are  those  which  most  benefit  by  peace ;  because  not  war,  but"?  • 
the  accumulation  and  right  use  of  capital,  is  what  gives  a  M 

\J 

nation  supremacy  nowadays.  Yet  many  people  still  believe 
that  problems  of  social  and  political  supremacy  can  only  be 
settled  by  the  sword — a  common  error  which  is  one  of  the 
obstacles  to  a  rapid  and  reasonable  solution  to  many  inter- 
national problems. 

It  is  our  duty  to  free  the  eyes  of  the  multitude  from  this 
veil  of  error  which  blinds  them,  by  proclaiming  the  truth  that 
war  in  Europe  is  to-day  nothing  but  the  ghost  of  dead  in- 
justices, which,  like  the  bogies  of  fiction,  return  from  time  to 
time,  but  only  to  alarm.  During  those  thirty  centuries  from 
which  dates  our  historical  knowledge,  war  has  been  more  a 
social  system  than  a  cruel  pastime  of  kings — the  first  most 
violent  and  brutal  means  adopted  by  ruling  minorities  to 
acquire  wealth.  At  last,  after  so  many  centuries  of  iniquity, 
the  absurdity  of  the  social  system  of  war  has  been  demon- 
strated by  the  decay  of  all  the  triumphs  which  war,  in  its 
mysterious  caprices,  conferred  on  men  and  people.  A  new 
form  of  civilization  has  arisen  in  which  men  can  appease 
their  greedy  instincts  by  the  productive  investment  of  capital 
— a  wise,  laborious,  extravagant,  and  magnificent  civilization, 
which  produces  and  consumes  a  prodigious  quantity  of 
material.  Thus,  for  eighty  years,  since  the  fall  of  Napoleon — 
the  man  who  had  tried  to  reanimate  the  spirit  of  warfare  in 
modern  society — the  civilized  nations  of  Europe  have  renounced 
the  exercise,  to  each  other's  hurt,  of  that  systematic  brigandage 
named  warfare,  and  from  that  moment  war  was  a  dead  thing. 


3  1 8  MILITARISM 

A  few  campaigns  have  been  fought  since  then  which  arose 
from  political  problems  which  prejudices  inherited  from  past 
ages  rendered  it  impossible  to  settle  by  other  means ;  but 
war,  in  its  true  and  proper  sense,  was  dead.  So  long  as  our 
present  civilization  shall  continue,  so  long  as  men  and  their 
needs  shall  augment,  so  long  as  in  new  lands  and  old  countries 
the  productive  investment  of  capital  can  be  multiplied,  war 
between  civilized  nations  for  economic  motives  will  be  im- 
possible ;  and  those  more  pacific  countries  which  have  become 
the  centres  of  world-wide  capitalism  will  be  the  most  power- 
ful. Only  some  access  of  insanity,  contagiously  communicated 
from  one  European  Government  to  another,  could  rekindle 
war  over  questions  of  colonial  dominion  ;  and  hence  arises  the 
necessity  of  intellectual  propaganda  with  the  object  of  bring- 
ing about  a  clearer  and  more  profound  understanding  of  the 
truth  among  the  governing  classes. 

Thus  propaganda  against  war  is  intimately  connected  with 
any  movement  for  social  progress  and  any  agitation  which 
has  this  object  in  view.  War  in  the  past  was  the  daughter  of 
ignorance  and  vice  and  the  mother  of  injustice.  Were  it  to 
assume  its  former  sway  in  modern  society,  it  would  generate 
sloth,  ignorance,  and  injustice  in  an  aggravated  form.  War 
is,  in  itself,  a  pure  injustice,  and  this  alone  ought  to  suffice  to 
induce  men  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  abolish  it ;  for  injustice 
is  the  origin  of  all  evil,  of  the  physical  evils  of  disease, 
pestilence,  and  premature  death,  of  the  moral  ones  of  mad- 
ness, crime,  and  all  the  suffering  which  is  the  invisible  but 
inseparable  companion  of  mankind  on  earth.  How  many 
men  have  not  asked  themselves,  in  face  of  so  much  atrocious 
suffering  which  appears  inexplicable  because  unmerited : 
11  What  is  the  cause  of  so  much  pain  in  life  ? "  A  terrible  and 
august  reason  there  is,  be  sure  of  it.  The  baby  who  dies  in 


PAX  CHRISTIANA  319 

its  cradle,  the  youth  who  is  killed  by  consumption,  the  man 
who  goes  mad  in  the  flower  of  his  years,  the  son  who  inherits 
his  father's  disease,  the  degenerate  who  becomes  a  criminal, 
the  neurotic  who  passes  his  existence  tormented  and  torment- 
ing, the  unfortunate  who  succumbs  to  a  broken  heart  on 
account  of  one  of  those  thousand  injuries  which  men  blindly 
exchange  in  the  thick  of  the  struggle  for  wealth  and  honour, — 
all  of  these  are  the  expiatory  victims  of  the  innumerable 
injustices  which  every  society  tolerates  in  its  midst,  and  for 
which  we  are  responsible,  one  and  all,  by  reason  of  an  iron 
law  of  solidarity  which  admits  of  no  immunity  nor  privilege. 
The  sin  may  not  always  have  been  committed  by  the  man 
who  expiates  it.  But  what  matters  this  ?  The  process  by 
which  justice  is  dealt  does  not  directly  affect  individuals,  but 
the  whole  of  society.  Only  in  a  society  totally  free  from 
injustice  would  man  be  absolutely  liberated  from  evil.  That 
society  would  no  longer  be  afflicted  with  invalids,  criminals, 
lunatics,  paupers,  vicious  or  unhappy  men.  The  seed  once 
destroyed,  the  bitter  fruit  could  no  longer  ripen. 

For  this  reason  society  unconsciously  always  tends  towards 
a  greater  degree  of  justice,  because  injustice  leads  to  suffer-  " 
ing,  and  man  ever  tries  to  avoid  pain.  The  history  of  man- 
kind is  merely  the  history  of  these  efforts :  slow  efforts,  of 
which  a  single  one  frequently  fills  a  whole  epoch  in  history  ; 
incoherent  efforts,  which,  in  one  age  or  one  people,  often  differ 
from  those  of  a  former  age  and  another  nation  ;  intermittent 
efforts,  where  long  pauses  often  alternate  with  periods  of 
feverish  energy ;  vain  efforts,  not  unfrequently,  because,  seduced 
by  an  apparent  or  transitory  happiness,  man  has  found  pain 
instead.  But  the  great  work  is  equally  well  accomplished 
because  it  is  necessary ;  because  man,  considering  in  the  light 
of  experience  one  after  another  all  the  many  mendacious  and 


320  MILITARISM 

apparent  forms  of  happiness,  naturally  approaches  to  a  better 
comprehension  of  the  nature  of  true  happiness  ;  and  in  face  of 
this  inevitable  final  success,  all  the  most  shameless  triumphs 
of  injustice  are  but  mere  episodes  of  which  the  very  recollection 
will  be  lost  when  the  term  of  expiation  shall  be  fulfilled.  Cer- 
tainly these  expiations  of  injustice,  that  stupefy  the  human 
comprehension  by  reason  of  their  greatness,  are  often  very  slow 
in  comparison  to  the  brevity  of  a  single  life.  But,  after  all,  what 
is  man  in  the  universal  mystery  of  existence  ?  Let  us,  then, 
take  hope  when  we  consider  the  past,  and  rejoice  in  the 
thought  of  the  great  events  and  doings  in  whose  midst  it  is 
our  lot  to  live.  At  the  present  moment  the  Christian  world 
has  before  it,  if  its  wisdom  is  not  less  than  its  fortune,  a  long 
respite  of  peace.  How  many  great  and  good  things  might  it 
not  accomplish !  Oligarchies,  whose  only  object  was  to 
enrich  themselves,  filled  past  ages  with  their  violent  iniquities, 
from  that  which  reigned  in  ancient  Rome  to  that  which 
sprang  up  last  century  around  Napoleon.  To-day  nothing 
remains  of  them  but  dust,  and  from  their  ashes  they  shall 
arise  no  more.  If  men  are  wise,  the  age  of  Pax  Christiana 
can  now  be  inaugurated,  of  longer  duration  and  more  glorious 
than  the  Pax  Augusta  ;  and  this  should  herald  a  fresh  chapter 
in  the  history  of  the  white  man's  civilization — an  unheroic 
chapter  if  you  will,  but,  let  us  earnestly  hope,  a  less  lugu- 
brious and  less  bloody  chapter,  and  one  less  replete  with 
atrocities  than  those  which  have  preceded  it. 


WARD,   LOCK   AND  CO.,    LTD.,    LONDON,   NEW   YORK,   AND   MELBOURNE- 


14  DAY  USE 

KBTORN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOANDIEI 


This 


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